The School
Long,
long ago
near
the pebbly shores
of
the Mediterranean blue
there
was an old school of philosophy.
For
four hundred years
it
taught boys and young men
into
their twenties
the
ways of rhetoric and wisdom.
To
help fund the school
the
students would search
the
nearby beaches for garnets
which
they would put
into
small, clear bauble jars sealed with wax
to
sell in town.
One
afternoon a pair of the older students,
with
two heads of black hair and brown skin,
Pedro,
and Sharif, were down at a cafe talking
about
the days search on the beach.
Pedro
took a drink of his tea
and
proudly said, “This morning I found twenty garnets.
That's
enough to fill two bauble jars.
Sharif,
nodded and said,
“You
did good then. As for me,
I
swam looking in the waters near the rocks.
Eventually,
I found clams and therein
eight
white pearls, enough for two more jars.”
Pedro,
scowled, “You are foolish,” he said in a hurry,
“We
only sell garnets!
In
the time you found eight pearls
you
could have found enough garnets to fill four jars.”
Pedro's
words were like a sharp slap to him.
Sharif
bowed his head in sudden anger
and
quickly changed the subject.
Soon,
he finished his tea, excused himself
and
returned to the school.
Later,
as the gold afternoon sun
swam
slowly down the sky
Sharif
sat talking to Carib, the school master,
who
wore a long gray robe, walking stick beside him.
He
told Carib of his conversation with Pedro,
then
he asked,
“Master,
was Pedro wrong to criticize me?”
Or
am I the one who is foolish
just
as Pedro says?”
“Why
do you think Pedro was upset?”
asked
master Carib.
“He
thought I was foolish,” answered Sharif.
“Look
deeper,” said Carib.
Sharif
thought a few moments, then he said,
“Perhaps
he was threatened by my success
at
finding pearls.”
“And
why do you still feel bad
about
the conversation?” asked Carib.
“Because
I was angered so easily,” answered Sharif.
“Don't
look to where you fell, my son.
Look
to where you slipped,” said master Carib.
The
student thought for a minute then said,
“Pedro
accosted my sense of success, so I was angry.”
“What
should you therefore do?” asked Carib.
“I
should not depend on my deeds of accomplishment
to
define my self-worth, but look to my soul instead.”
“And
so who made you angry? asked master Carib.
“I
myself did,” grinned the student.
Master
Carib smiled softly.
As
the sun slid below the horizon,
fading
to deep blue and orange
he
extended his hand to Sharif and said,
“You
have freed yourself, my son.
You
graduate tomorrow
young
master.”
Dewey
Dirks
