Humble Beginnings
A man lived in the countryside and had two donkeys whom he
loved. He had been given the animals when he was a boy in order to
help him learn to be responsible, but what had begun as a parental
exercise with respect to the child, had been transformed into a life-
long labor of service, caring, and affection for the animals.
As a boy, he had fed them, groomed them, and nursed them back
to health the few times they had become ill or had injured
themselves, somehow, while traveling about in the countryside. This
loving care had continued into adulthood.
In their own way, the two donkeys had reciprocated the boy’s
affectionate attention. They followed the boy everywhere and would
quickly do whatever the boy wished in the way of work, although
they would be as stubborn as ... well ... donkeys, whenever anyone
else in the boy’s family tried to get them to do tasks on the farm.
The townspeople often made jokes about the boy and his
donkeys whenever the latter three came into town on this or that
errand. However, the boy didn’t care what the townspeople said
because he knew the joy which his donkeys brought to his heart just
by being his constant companions and because of the gentle, friendly
manner through which they responded to his caring for them.
As the boy became a young man, and the donkeys got older as
well, the three of them continued to be inseparable. Human nature
being what it is, the townspeople who had no insight into the bond
between the man and his two donkeys continued to ridicule the
young man whenever they got the chance, and some of them even
spread malicious rumors about the young man and his donkeys --
rumors which had no basis in truth.
One day a very old man came to town and made arrangements
with the officials of the community to give a series of talks about
mysticism. These talks were to be free and held in the town square
each evening at 8:00 p.m., and everyone who was interested was
invited to attend.
Since such talks were a very rare event in the area and because
the people were both curious and somewhat bored with their lives, a
great number of townspeople attended the talks. Moreover, since the
elderly gentleman was a very knowledgeable and entertaining
speaker, each talk was eagerly anticipated by the residents of the
community and whatever was talked about the previous evening
became the topic of conversation among the townspeople throughout
the next day.
On the 3rd or 4th night of talks, as the elderly man was about to
rise and begin his talk, the young man, who had become known, far
and wide, as the Donkey Man, came into the heart of town crying
and loudly lamenting. The young man’s grief was so audible that the
evening’s discussion could not begin, and, naturally, the townspeople
were quite annoyed about the disruption.
The elderly man held up his hands and motioned to the audience
to be quiet. After the audience calmed down, the older man turned
to the younger man and asked him to explain, as best he could, what
had happened.
The young man, in between his sighs and tears, was able to
explain that his donkeys had been missing for several days.
Moreover, despite all his efforts, he had not been able to find them
and feared the worst concerning them, and, then, he began to cry
again.
The townspeople who had been silent throughout the young
man’s story, more out of respect for the speaker than the Donkey
Man, now erupted with impatience and disdain concerning the young
man. Some of them began to make sarcastic remarks concerning the
young man and his donkeys.
The speaker studied the crowd for a moment and, then, gazed at
the young man in a strange way for a few seconds. Finally, he raised
his hands again and asked the audience to be quiet, and, eventually,
they complied with his request.
The old man addressed the young man and said: “Son, if you will
take a seat, I have just a few words to say to the people here and,
then, we will try to see if we can help you with your problem. Will
that be OK?”
The young man nodded his head in the affirmative and took the
seat which had been pointed out by the speaker. Though tears
continued to flow from his eyes, the young man did his best to keep
the noise of his crying muffled.
The speaker returned his attention to the rest of his audience
and began to talk: “Ladies and gentlemen, first, I must start by
saying that tonight is my last talk and that other duties require me to
travel elsewhere in the morning.”
This news was received with dismay by the townspeople, for, in
just a few short days, they had become very interested in what the
man had to say and, as well, many of them were attracted to his kind
demeanor and friendliness. Some of the people protested and begged
him to stay on – if only for a few more days.
The old man smiled in a rather rueful manner at the crowd’s
response and indicated: “As much as I would like to stay, I really
cannot. However, I do hope to return at some point in the near
future, and, perhaps, this hope will serve as some consolation to those
of you who might wish me to remain for a while longer.”
The speaker’s words seemed to mollify the townspeople
somewhat, for the audience gradually settled down. They waited for
him to speak again.
He said: “Tonight’s talk is a very short one, but it goes to the
very essence of all that I have been discussing the last few nights,
and, maybe, the best way for me to introduce this topic is to ask you
a question.”
He was silent for a moment as his eyes surveyed the audience.
Then, he asked: “How many of you have ever been in love? I don’t
mean liking, or being affectionate, or lusting, or having
acquaintances, or being amenable with one another – I mean real
love.”
The members of the audience became preoccupied with the
question. Although most of the people listening to the talk had been
searching for love all of their lives, many of them were not even sure
what it was they were seeking – just that there was some sort of
absence or something missing in their lives, and the word which was
used to describe this quality that was not present was “love”.
The speaker let them reflect on his question for a few moments,
and, then, asked the same question again, but in a more emphatic
way: “Who here has ever been really in love? Please raise your
hands.”
A minute, or so, passed, and, finally, a few scattered hands went
up, somewhat tentatively. The speaker nodded knowingly as he
scanned the audience, and, finally, he indicated that the people with
raised arms should lower them.
The elderly man said: “I have a suggestion for the rest of you
who have not raised your hands in response to my query about love.
My suggestion is that you befriend this young man who has been
crying about his donkeys because he may well know more about love
than almost anyone in this gathering. He knows about the joys of the
wonderfully expansive feeling that love brings to life, and he knows
about the service, longing, worries, compassion, value, sacrifices,
acceptance, and meaning inherent in love.
“If any of you do decide to befriend this young man and learn
what he knows about the love he has for his donkeys, then, I believe
you will benefit greatly from his understanding. He has a wealth of
knowledge to share with you, and, if you are fortunate, you will begin
to put into practice in your own lives, and in this community, what
he has been living for years.
“I will conclude my talk by saying that, perhaps, we all could
pitch in tomorrow morning before I leave and try to help this young
man find his missing donkeys. And, if we should not be successful in
our hunt, then, let us find ways to console him and comfort him.”
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