A parable by Hani’a Abrams
Old Mr. Bell was very Poor. He was also very Good. What is it that makes a person truly Good? Depends on who we ask. Not many know what it is to be truly Good;
—there are some who understand what it means to be Poor. Although many lay claim…to want to be truly Good; only a few wish to be Poor.
~
Young Mr. Sand was not a nice man. He too was very poor. He hated being poor, so he was envious of the rich. Not many know what it is to be rich. Fewer still that there are two kinds of rich…
…one is what can be measured by hand and by eye; the other is what can only be measured by purity of heart. Although neither Mr. Sand, nor Mr. Bell, had riches that could be measured by hand or by eye… …it could be said of Mr. Bell: His was a heart truly pure!
~
Mr. Bell and Mr. Sand and the rest of the poorest of the poor, lived in a shanty town outside the great city of Ors. The shanty town was near these humongous piles of refuse that were the discards from those of the great city who were materially fortunate.
Desperate the lives of the poorest of the poor! —having to rummage through these piles of refuse for their food, clothing, and shelter! Constant the ache of their bellies —not only from finding little food to eat, but also because the little food found was often turning rotten!
The clothing found was usually torn, threadbare and ill-fitting, and their shanty homes, built of what could be salvaged from the refuse, rattled in the wind and leaked in the rain, were too hot in summer, and in winter much too cold.
~
Whatever little good he managed to find rummaging through the refuse, Mr. Bell was always willing to share: if he found something good to eat and a child were hungrier than he, Mr. Bell would sing and give; …if he found something warm to wear and an elder were colder than he, Mr. Bell would sing and give; …if he found construction material and a family had a home that rattled in the wind, leaked in the rain more than his, Mr. Bell would sing and give; …as such was his way, naturally, he was loved and appreciated by all.
As no one ever heard him sing, Mr. Sand, he was not loved or appreciated by all; rather, he only spoke harshly to people; nor did Mr. Sand ever give or share; rather, whenever the opportunity arose for him to take what was not given or shared, take he would! He even stole from kind Mr. Bell! —but even so, unlike everyone else …Mr. Bell never complained!
Because he was not nice, and took what was not given, none of the poorest of the poor would talk to Mr. Sand, would not even let him near …except Old Mr. Bell. He talked to Mr. Sand and he let him near, and often they could be seen together rummaging through the piles of refuse in hope of something useful.
…Whatever Young Mr. Sand found, he would always hide for himself.
…And whatever Old Mr. Bell found, he was always willing to share.
~
One day, from the great city, a big truck arrived at the place of refuse. Hoping for something useful a crowd of the poorest of poor gathered to see. The truck had come from the home of a rich man whose daughter was to be wed, and the garden where the wedding was to take place had been landscaped anew; many trees and plants had been cut down and dug up. This truck was full of those discarded plants and trees and dumped it all in a big pile. The poorest of the poor gathered there sighed and began walking away, thinking to themselves,
“That has no use! Nothing there for us to eat or wear.”
But Mr. Bell did not walk away, he walked right up and began rummaging through the discarded plants and trees; guided by an Inner-feeling …which made him think,
“Something of use might be found even amongst that what seems to have no use.”
Mr. Sand decided to stay with Mr. Bell, because he knew Mr. Bell was good at finding useful things. Maybe Old Mr. Bell would find some useful thing Mr. Sand could take for himself! …And, sure enough, Mr. Bell did find something useful! …Something that one day would be useful for all!
It was a plum tree sapling!
Old Mr. Bell was very happy to have found the sapling. Young Mr. Sand did not understand Mr. Bell’s joy, but when saw how happy Mr. Bell was with the sapling, he wanted to take it for himself! —just because he did not like for others to have and him not to have! But Mr. Bell sternly said,
“No!”
Mr. Bell did not let Mr. Sand take the sapling. He did not give; he did not share; he tucked the sapling underneath his shirt and straightway took it home. Why did Mr. Bell not give or share? The question was burning Mr. Sand, it made him angry; he did not like for others to have and him not to have! —so with eyes narrow and his heart aflame, he followed Mr. Bell…
From a distance, Mr. Sand hid and watched Mr. Bell go unto his shanty home. He saw him go inside and come right back out with a gourd of water and a rusty soup spoon. Mr. Sand watched Mr. Bell count twelve or so paces from his shanty home, then Mr. Bell knelt upon the ground and made himself quiet… Mr. Sand saw Old Mr. Bell begin to slowly sway …as if to a Music none could hear …but which Old Mr. Bell could feel.
Mr. Sand saw Old Mr. Bell take up the rusty soup spoon and with it begin to dig. He heard Mr. Bell sing as he dug, …singing to the One Origin of the Earth and the Sun and of the Clouds that bring Rain. He sang to the plum tree sapling, bringing it forth from his shirt and gently planting it, tapping the softened earth firmly about its young root. He finished singing as he watered it from the gourd, and glowing with joy, Old Mr. Bell went back into his shanty home to rest.
After a while, Mr. Sand went sneakily toward the plum tree sapling. He was meaning to take it! But, descending from the sky came a little bird! Noble was the name of this little bird, and She was Mr. Bell’s Friend. Noble did not let Mr. Sand come near! She kept diving and fiercely chirping at Mr. Sand! He waved his hands and tried to shoo Noble away, but She would not be daunted! Noble kept on diving and chirping at Mr. Sand until he finally huffed in exasperation, “You stupid bird!”
—and stomped away full of frustration. Noble followed a ways to make sure he was gone, then returned to the plum tree sapling; She ascended into the sky, circled the sapling seven times, before alighting on the roof of Mr. Bell’s shanty home …to quietly keep watch.
~
Time went by and by and by… and everyday Mr. Bell sang and sang and sang to the plum tree sapling …even until it was no longer a sapling but had become a full plum tree! Yet, although the tree had grown large with the passing of many Winters and Springs and Summers and Falls …it never once showed any sign of blossoming. No blossoms of course meant no fruit; yet, as if it one day would blossom and bear fruit, Old Mr. Bell would sing and sing and sing to the tree; so much so, the poorest of the poor, though they knew him to be very kind, began to consider he might be going ‘out of his right mind’.
The Poorest of the poor, understandably because of their desperation, had become weak in faith and, also, weak in hope; so they naturally could not help feeling the plum tree good for nothing; and in judgement of Mr. Bell singing to it, they would often say unto him, “Why do you sing so to this tree, Mr. Bell?”
and he would cheerfully answer, “Because one day this tree will bring nourishment to us all!”
and the poorest of the poor would then say, “Mr. Bell! —this tree has never even blossomed, of course, it will never bear any fruit!”
and Old Mr. Bell would smile and softly reply, “Yea, yea, we will see, we will see…”
~
One morning, in late Winter, one of the poorest of the poor, an elder woman, was returning from the river… (Now, before first light, a Voice bade this woman to go bathe in the river. It was hard for her to follow this Voice as she knew the water would be so cold …but she found she could not refuse this Voice, so she journeyed through the still dark unto the river and shivering to her bones, bathed therein. She thought she might die, but steadily she braved the cold water and was astonished when a warmth enveloped her from without even as it filled her from within. She felt herself strengthened in body and in Faith, and she was very glad to have obeyed the Voice! …She obeyed the Voice again when It told her to return home, and feeling blessed and much refreshed, so she did.) …as she was passing Mr. Bell’s shanty home, the Sun was just beginning to brighten the world. Noble forthrightly took wing into the sky and began to chirp and sing like unto a voice from heaven, and the elder woman looked over and was astonished again; this time to witness the plum tree that was naught but bare branches the night before …was now in full bloom! The beauty of the blossoming plum tree moved her such she could not help but call out,
“Everyone! Wake up! Wake up! Come see, come see! A miracle has happened this night!
Come see everyone! …Come see Mr. Bell’s plum tree!”
Roused from their slumber those of the poorest of the poor who could hear the elder woman’s voice wondered at her words. (Now some were already awake …because of unusual dreams …which in some cases were comforting …yet because of dearth of understanding …in other cases were felt strange and disturbing). …Wrapped in their tatters to protect from the cold, those who heard came out of their shanty homes. Amazed they were to find the elder woman pointing to the plum tree full of pristine blossoms! Enraptured by the beauty thereof, they could not help but gather around the tree; each one remembering their witness of Mr. Bell singing to the tree everyday throughout the seasons, and now this day: finally, they were witness to why Old Mr. Bell faithfully sang so. The beauty of the blossoming plum tree was herald of a Promise Sublime …and the poorest of the poor felt in that moment relief from the constant despair of their desperate lives, and each felt their heart fill with joy, and with happiness, and with faith and with hope.
From the doorway of his shanty home Mr. Sand was watching. Wrought he was from the night’s fitful dreams. Now, as he witnessed the reason of the elder woman’s call to awake, and indeed felt the Beauty of the blossoming plum tree entering him, a new, yet somehow familiar, feeling, stirred within. His limbs began to tremble …and this trembling grew until it touched his heart …resulting first in a sharp pain …then soon enough followed by a rushing coolness …then dawned within Mr. Sand a poignant remembering followed by a keen understanding concerning Mr. Bell:
That what made Mr. Bell most happy …was a Treasure in his old heart, and because of this Treasure,
…Old Mr. Bell felt the happiness (and the suffering) of others as his own!
From this enlightening awareness, a soft smile began to grow on Mr. Sand’s smiling face, even as tears of remorse streamed down his smarting cheeks. (For his had been a face not given to smiling!)
Young Mr. Sand felt himself much contrite, but also most glad, and thankful unto speechlessness. How thankful he was Noble did not let him take the tree when it was a sapling …he would not have known how to take care of it; he could not have known its value; he would not have had the patience and faith to sing and sing and sing and sing through the passing seasons. Young Mr. Sand became aware of something Alive and growing within him …something that cannot be measured by hand or by eye, but indeed was making him feel very, very Rich! …Seemingly of its own natural accord, Mr. Sand’s body began to carry him to the plum tree…
Young Mr. Sand made his way, quietly, humbly, through the gathering of those awakened by the elder woman’s call, and who were milling about in collective awe and bewilderment at the Beauty of the blossoming plum tree. When Mr. Sand’s presence became known to them, there was a murmuring of disapproval, and one of them did not hesitate to speak aloud his feelings,
“Why come you here Mr. Sand? Have you come to pay us back for what you took from us?
…Or do you intend to steal even this beauty from us?”
Mr. Sand stopped and stood still; not yet able to meet anyone’s eyes. The elder woman whose awakening call roused them, stood before Young Mr. Sand. …After a quiet, she was moved to say to everyone,
“Let us be mindful of our speech before this Beauty which none can take from us!
Do you not see? Just like us, it is this Beauty that has brought him here!”
She reached up and took Mr. Sand’s face in her aged knotty hands, …she witnessed his tears and read into his awakening but long tired eyes …she was then moved to say, “It is finally time to speak your true heart Mr. Sand. I, for one, am listening.”
Mr. Sand turned to face everyone, yet was he still unable to meet their chastising gaze, but with voice trembling with sincerity he asked of them, “Forgive me. There is not any among you who I have not hurt. I do not deserve it …and I cannot undo what hurt I have done…but please …forgive me.”
The poorest of the poor gathered there found themselves speechless. Young Mr. Sand softly sat at the trunk of the plum tree. He was quiet and without expectation. Some, in witness of his sincerity, felt wont to speak, but a powerful quiet held them all hostage. Descending from the cold and bright and blue sky, Noble alighted to the plum tree. The powerful quiet seemingly vanished into sublime Space as Old Mr. Bell, throwing his worn and torn canvas bag over his shoulder, stepped noisily out from his shanty home. His sandaled feet struck the ground with intent as he walked right pass the crowd, on his way to rummage through the refuse for something useful. They called excitedly to him,
“Mr. Bell, Mr. Bell! The tree! Do you not see the tree?!”
His simply reply was, “Yea, yea, but, even still, I mustn’t neglect my daily needs!”
…And with those words, as if awakened from a spell, the gathered became keenly aware of their own ever pertinent daily needs. Lightly they all dispersed. Young Mr. Sand remained at the trunk of the plum tree however, quietly wishing within himself for something to different.
~
When Old Mr. Bell returned from his rounds of rummaging, of searching and finding, of singing and sharing and giving, it was evening. He saw Young Mr. Sand sitting beneath the plum tree and who seemingly had not moved since morning. With stern compassion Old Mr. Bell spoke to him so, “What are you doing there? …Do you not feel Winter is still with us?! Get up from there! Come! —come into my home with me!”
Cold and stiff, Young Mr. Sand arose to humbly follow Old Mr. Bell into his shanty home. They shared a meager meal and spent the rest of that night together …And through of all that night neither Old Mr. Bell, nor Young Mr. Sand could sleep! …It was all Mr. Bell could to sing and sing and sing …and it was all Mr. Sand could do clap and laugh and cry and dance! —to a Music that none could hear …but the both of them could feel.
~
Everyday thence, Young Mr. Sand began helping Mr. Bell take care of the plum tree; he carried water from the river and brought dung from the fields to nourish and fertilize its roots; he learned well how and in what season to best prune the tree, and enthusiastically memorized the song Mr. Bell sang to the plum tree, and without fail, each morning and evening Young Mr. Sand would sing this song. Surprisingly beautiful was his singing! —to his own ears as well as everyone else. …And now that he felt himself to be Rich, of course Young Mr. Sand stopped speaking harshly to people, and of course he no longer took what was not shared or given, but rather, like Old Mr. Bell, he did not hesitate to sing and share what little he had with any who had greater need. Willingly, the poorest of the poor all began talking to Mr. Sand, and with genuine smiles they all let him near, as they were all witness to his true transformation
…and he was known by them as the Caretaker of the Tree.
~
As Spring turned to Summer, the plum tree was full of promised fruit and the fruit upon the topmost branch already ripe! One of the poorest of the poor, a boy-child, whose belly was stinging from hunger, keenly noticed that ripe fruit, and right away he climbed the tree and shook the ripened fruit down from the branch. When Mr. Sand came to the tree and saw the boy picking up the fallen fruit, he began to sorely chastise him. Fruit in hand, the boy turned to run away, but the Caretaker of the Tree called to him, “Wait! —do not run …Please, forgive my harshness.”
The boy stopped, desperately clutching the fruit he warily turned to face Mr. Sand, who took a breath before thoughtfully speaking such, “Listen, I too, am very hungry, and I too saw that fruit upon the branch, and I too thought to shake it down for myself.
…But as Mr. Bell is napping, I was waiting for him to awake, for, stronger than my hunger, is a feeling that Mr. Bell ought be the one to have the first fruit of this plum tree. Now that you have the fruit in hand however,
Please, …tell me how you feel.”
The boy looked at the fruit in his hands. Sore was his hunger, but he did reflect upon the incredible kindness of Old Mr. Bell, …and despite his hunger the child felt himself in full agreement with Mr. Sand. Indeed! —the boy duly chose to forgo his hunger and offer to Old Mr. Bell the fruit he had got for himself! Patiently sat he and Mr. Sand under the plum tree, waiting for Mr. Bell to awake…
When Noble descended from the sky, through the branches of the plum tree to land upon his shoulder, Mr. Sand suddenly felt to get up and go into Mr. Bell’s shanty home. He finds Old Mr. Bell on his mat …staring into space …a smile on his peaceful face …but he does not answer Mr. Sand’s call …nor does he move from Mr. Sand’s touch. Brimming with concern, Mr. Sand kneels at Mr. Bell’s side. Ever smiling, Old Mr. Bell turns his head to gaze upon Young Mr. Sand …he nods his head as if a bow before slowly closing his eyes. Mr. Sand is bewildered by a sweet fragrance that suddenly fills the entire room! …Understanding strikes Mr. Sand with grief! He lowers his head and begins to weep.
Gathering himself, Mr. Sand goes out and tells the boy to help himself to the first fruits …then, solemnly, he walks through the shanty town to let every one of the poorest of the poor know, “…Old Mr. Bell, …has just died.”
All who hear …feel heart-stabbed, dropping whatever object was in hand. All who hear …cannot help but break down in tears of great sorrow. All who hear …are overwhelmed with the loss of kind, and generous, and noble Mr. Bell.
~
Days later, at the humble funeral for Mr. Bell, each and every one of the poorest of the poor are gathered …except Mr. Sand. Everyone wonders where he is, feeling in themselves that perhaps Mr. Sand’s sadness was too great to for him to attend. After the burial of Mr. Bell’s body, the poorest of the poor, solemn and mourning, all feel to gather to the plum tree, …and there is Mr. Sand!
—who has picked much fruit! —and is shining at them! —shining at them all with the smile of someone who understands a Great and Beautiful Secret!
He warmly beckons and greets and passes ripe fruit to each and every one of the poorest of the poor, enjoining them all to nourish themselves; and as everyone grateful yet still solemn partakes of the fruit, Mr. Sand brightly speaks so,“Let us all rejoice for Mr. Bell! —as he lived his life so very, very well!
Verily, was he not Guided by the Good?! …And did not his living of such a life give unto all of us the fruit of happiness?! Yes! —the evidence is in all of our hearts that this was so! Therefore, because of the life he lived, and as I bore witness:upon his final breath,
Mr. Bell was truly Happy, and truly Content, and truly at Peace.”
Mr. Sand went on to say that they all ought to try, as best they might, to turn their sadness into a commitment to continue in Old Mr. Bell’s way …the daily work of searching and finding, of singing and sharing and taking care of one another; ever remembering how Mr. Bell was always willing to help others before helping himself; and ever remembering that the Good, which truly guided Mr. Bell in his life, was also Present to guide each and every one of them in their lives. Finishing his speech, Young Mr. Sand offered this:
“…from now on, my beloveds, every year at this time, let us gather together here, in remembrance of the Good within us, and share with one another the fruit of this tree, in remembrance and commitment to the excellent way of living shown us by Mr. Bell! —for truly, I believe this was Mr. Bell’s wish and intent and hopeful prayer when he found and planted, for us, …this plum tree!”
Each one of the poorest of the poor felt the remnant of their mourning replaced by a wondrous and joyful lightness! They look upon one another only to witness a reflection of their own surprise and amazement! Collectively do the poorest of the poor bring their palms together and bow their heads to one another in silent Agreement.
…Then do the Poorest of the Poor continue partaking of the ripe and rich fruit of the Plum Tree, gracing one another with gentle smiles, each knowing within, …indeed Old Mr. Bell’s kindness and love was ever with them!