What happens in Heavens...
I had a dream that I was in Heavens, and Angel appeared beside me to accompany me on a tour of the premises. We walked for a while until we reached a large hall full of angels.
My angel stopped and said:
--- This is Receivables Department. All petitions and all people’s appeals to God during prayers are delivered here.
I looked around. The room was bustling with activity. Quite a few angels were busy sorting through the requests, piles and piles of paper written by people from around the world. I saw sheets of paper, scrolls, notes, etc.
Then we proceeded along a very long hallway towards the next department, where the Angel said:
--- This is our Shipping and Packaging Department. Here the Divine Grace that people asked for is packaged and delivered to them.
I again noticed that the room was bustling with activity. Quite a few angels were working hard. After all, people ask for so many things, and the angels were busy preparing the shipments to Earth.
And, finally, at the end of another very long hallway we stopped in front of a door that led to a tiny room. In it we found only one apparently bored angel.
--- And this is our Gratitude Department,- softly stated my guide, somewhat perplexed.
--- How come that this room isn’t bustling from activity? – I asked.
--- It is very sad,- sighed the Angel.- Very few people send their Gratitude upon receiving what they originally requested.
--- And how does one send Gratitude and confirmation of receipt of Divine Grace? – I asked.
--- Very simple,- answered the Angel,- Just say: “Thank you, God!”
--- And in which cases should one send confirmation of receipt of Divine Grace? – I asked.
--- If you have food in the fridge and you are clothed, if you have a roof over your head and a place to sleep, then you are more prosperous than 75% of people on Earth.
If you have money in the bank, money in your wallet and you still manage to thrift a little, then you are among 8% of the richest people on Earth.
If you woke up in the morning and realized that you are in good health, then you are definitely luckier than many others who won’t live through this day.
If you have been fearless in battle, if you haven’t been afraid of imprisonment or torments and haven’t suffered from hunger, then are much better off than 700 million people in this world.
If you came to your house of worship and can pray there having no fear of persecution or arrest, then you are in a great imposition compared to 3 billion people in this world.
If your parents are still alive and married together… then you are a rarity.
If you can keep your head high and smile, then you are above the norm – you are extraordinary to those who are immersed in doubt and devastation.
And if you received this message, then you are among 1% of people who received a chance…
--- OK, but what now? How do I begin?
--- If you are reading this message, then you can already thank for an ability to read it, because more than 2 billion of people are illiterate.
Have a great day!
Genuinely thank for everything you have, and if you care, then tell this parable to your loved ones!
***
The Old Man and the White Horse
Once there was an old man who lived in a tiny village. Although poor, he was envied by all, for he owned a beautiful white horse. Even the king coveted his treasure. A horse like this had never been seen before – such was its splendor, its majesty, its strength. People offered fabulous prices for the steed, but the old man always refused. “This horse is not a horse to me,” he would tell them. “It is a person. How could you sell a person? He is a friend, not a possession. How could you sell a friend.” The man was poor and the temptation was great. But he never sold the horse.
One morning he found that the horse was not in his stable. All the village came to see him. “You old fool,” they scoffed, “we told you that someone would steal your horse. We warned you that you would be robbed. You are so poor. How could you ever protect such a valuable animal? It would have been better to have sold him. You could have gotten whatever price you wanted. No amount would have been to high. Now the horse is gone and you’ve been cursed with misfortune.”
The old man responded, “Don’t speak too quickly. Say only that the horse is not in the stable. That is all we know; the rest is judgment. If I’ve been cursed or not, how can you know? How can you judge?”
The people contested, “Don’t make us out to be fools! We may not be philosophers, but great philosophy is not needed. The simple fact that your horse is gone is a curse.”
The old man spoke again. “All I know is that the stable is empty, and the horse is gone. The rest I don’t know. Whether it be a curse or a blessing, I can’t say. All we can see is a fragment. Who can say what will come next?”
The people of the village laughed. They thought that the man was crazy. They had always thought he was a fool; if he wasn’t, he would have sold the horse and lived off the money. But instead, he was a poor woodcutter, and old man still cutting firewood and dragging it out of the forest and selling it. He lived hand to mouth in the misery of poverty. Now he had proven that he was, indeed, a fool.
After fifteen days, the horse returned. He hadn’t been stolen; he had run away into the forest. Not only had he returned, he had brought a dozen wild horses with him. Once again, the village people gathered around the woodcutter and spoke. “Old man, you were right and we were wrong. What we thought was a curse was a blessing. Please forgive us.”
The man responded, “Once again, you go too far. Say only that the horse is back. State only that a dozen horses returned with him, but don’t judge. How do you know if this is a blessing or not? You see only a fragment. Unless you know the whole story, how can you judge? You read only one page of a book. Can you judge the whole book? You read only one word of one phrase. Can you understand the entire phrase?”
“Life is so vast, yet you judge all of life with one page or one word. All you have is one fragment! Don’t say that this is a blessing. No one knows. I am content with what I know. I am not perturbed by what I don’t.”
“Maybe the old man is right,” they said to one another. So they said little. But down deep, they knew he was wrong. They knew it was a blessing. Twelve wild horses had returned. With a little work, the animals could be broken and trained and sold for much money.
The old man had a son, an only son. The young man began to break the wild horses. After a few days, he fell from one of the horses and broke both legs. Once again the villagers gathered around the old man and cast their judgments.
“You were right,” they said. “You proved you were right. The dozen horses were not a blessing. They were a curse. Your only son has broken both his legs, and now in your old age you have no one to help you. Now you are poorer than ever.”
The old man spoke again. “You people are obsessed with judging. Don’t go so far. Say only that my son broke his legs. Who knows if it is a blessing or a curse? No one knows. We only have a fragment. Life comes in fragments.”
It so happened that a few weeks later the country engaged in war against a neighboring country. All the young men of the village were required to join the army. Only the son of the old man was excluded, because he was injured. Once again the people gathered around the old man, crying and screaming because their sons had been taken. There was little chance that they would return. The enemy was strong, and the war would be a losing struggle. They would never see their sons again.
“You were right, old man,” They wept. “God knows you were right. This proves it. Your son’s accident was a blessing. His legs may be broken, but at least he is with you. Our sons are gone forever.”
The old man spoke again. “It is impossible to talk with you. You always draw conclusions. No one knows. Say only this. Your sons had to go to war, and mine did not. No one knows if it is a blessing or a curse.
No one is wise enough to know. Only God knows.”
