One day a young mussels on the seabed complained and complained to her mother for a grain of sand sharply into his red and soft. "My son," his mother said in tears, "God does not give us, the shells, a hand too, so that she can not help you." The mother paused, momentarily, "I know that it hurt my son. But accept it as a natural fate. Strengthen your heart. Do not get too frisky again. Muster zeal against the sense of pain and pain that bite. Wrap your stomach to sand it with sap. Only that which can you do ", said his mother with a mellow and gentle. Children shells did her mother's advice. No result, but sometimes the pain is still felt. Sometimes in the midst of pain, she doubted her mother's advice. With tears he survived, many years. But without realizing a pearl begins to form in the flesh. Increasingly refined. The pain was diminishing. And the longer the pearl the greater. The pain becomes even more reasonable. Finally after so many years, a large pearl, shiny intact, and expensive even with a perfectly formed. His suffering was transformed into pearls; her tears turn into very valuable. Himself now, as a result of many years of suffering, is more valuable than a million other shellfish that people eat just as mussels poached on the roadsid
Tidak ada komentar:
Posting Komentar