THE STRANGER IN THE GARDEN
Once upon a time there was a man who had a big garden. He had planted many fruit trees and
cared for them till they bear fruits. Now he wanted to pick up the fruits and sell them to make
money for his family.
One fine day while picking fruits with his son, the man saw a stranger
sitting on the branch of a tree and picking the fruits. This man become
angry and shouted, “Hey you! What are you doing on my tree? Aren’t you
ashamed of stealing fruits in the day time?” The stranger on the branch
just looked at the gardener but didn’t reply, and continued picking the
fruits. The gardener was very angry and shouted again, “For a whole year
I have taken care of these trees, you have no right to take the fruits without
my permission so come down at once!”
The stranger on the tree answered, “Why should I come down? This is the garden of God and I am
the servant of God, so I have the right to pick these fruits and you should not interfere between the
work of God and his servant.” The gardener was very surprised at this answer and thought of a
plan. He called his son and said, “go bring a rope and get this man down from the tree.” His son
brought the rope and the gardener ordered him to tie the stranger to the tree. The gardener then
took a stick and started to beat the stranger. The stranger began to scream. “Why are you beating
me? You have no right to do this.”
The gardener paid no attention and continued beating him. The stranger screamed, “Don’t you
fear God, you are beating an innocent man? The gardener answered, “Why should I fear? This
wood in my hand belongs to God and I am too the servant of God, so I have nothing to fear, and
you shouldn’t interfere with the work of God and his servant.” The stranger hesitated and then
spoke, “Wait don’t beat me, I am sorry for taking the fruits. This is your garden and I should seek
your permission before taking the fruits. So, please forgive and set me free.”
The gardener smiled and said, “Since you have now realized your mistake, I will forgive you but
remember that God has given all his servants brains so every person’s deeds are in his own hands.”
Then the gardener untied him and let him go free.
TO TELLTHE TRUTH
“Who did this?” asked my teacher. Thirty children tried to think about
not only what they had done, but also what our teacher may have found
out. “Who did this?” asked my teacher once more. She wasn’t really
asking, she was demanding an answer. She seldom became angry, but
she was this time. She held up a piece of broken glass and asked, “Who
broke this window?”
“Oh, oh,” I thought. I was the one who broke the window. I had not done it intentionally. It was
caused by an errant throw of a baseball. I was working on my knuckleball. It needed more work.
Why did it have to be me? It wasn’t really my fault. If I admitted guilt, I would be in a lot of trouble.
How would I be able to pay for a big window like that? I didn’t even get an allowance. “My father is
going to have a fit,” I thought. I didn’t want to raise my hand, but some force much stronger than I
was pulled it skyward. I told the truth. “I did it.” I said no more. It was hard enough saying what I
had.
My teacher went to one of our library shelves
and took down a book. She then began walking "Do not be like persons on whom advice has no
effect; they require punishments to improve them.
towards my desk. I had never seen my teacher
A sensible man acquires guidance through
to strike a student, but I feared she was going to
advice, while brutes and beasts always improve
start with me and she was going to use a book
through punishments." Imam Ali (AS)
for the swatting.
“I know how you like birds,” she said as she stood looking down at my guilt-ridden face. “Here is
that field guide about birds that you are constantly checking out. It is yours. It’s time we got a new
one for the school anyway. The book is yours and you will not be punished as long as you
remember that I am not rewarding you for your misdeed, I am rewarding you for your
truthfulness.”
WHEN THE WINDS BLOW
Years ago a farmer owned land along the Atlantic seacoast. He constantly advertised for hired
hands. Most people were reluctant to work on farms along the Atlantic. They dreaded the awful
storms that raged across the ocean, wreaking havoc on the buildings and crops. As the farmer
interviewed applicants for the job, he received a steady stream of refusals.
Finally, a short, thin man, well past middle age, approached the farmer. “Are you a good
farmhand?” the farmer asked him. “Well, I can sleep when the wind blows,” answered the man.
Although puzzled by this answer, the farmer, desperate for help, hired him. The little man worked
well around the farm, busy from dawn to dusk, and the farmer felt satisfied with the man's work.
Then one night the wind howled loudly in from offshore. Jumping out of bed, the farmer grabbed
a lantern and rushed next door to the hired hand’s sleeping quarters. He shook the little man and
yelled, “Get up! A storm is coming! Tie things down before they blow away!”
The little man rolled over in bed and said firmly,
“No sir. I told you, I can sleep when the wind blows.”
Enraged by the response, the farmer was tempted to fire
him on the spot. Instead, he hurried outside to prepare for
the storm. To his amazement, he discovered that all of the
haystacks had been covered with tarpaulins. The cows were
in the barn, the chickens were in the coops, and the doors
were barred. The shutters were tightly secured. Everything was tied down. Nothing could blow
away.
The farmer then understood what his hired hand meant, so he returned to his bed to also sleep
while the wind blew.
When you’re prepared, spiritually, mentally, and physically, you have nothing to fear. Can you sleep
when the wind blows through your life? The hired hand in the story was able to sleep because he
had secured the farm against the storm.
We with faith secure ourselves against the storms of life by putting our trust in the
God, Our Prophet (SAW) and his Ahlul Byat (AS), We don’t need to understand, and
we just need to hold His hand to be secure in the midst of the storms.
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Author: Akramulla Syed
