Pundit and Rich Man There was Pundit in the village. He was well-versed in all Scriptures. He knew everything, but, he was poor. He did not have a house. He used to get his meals also with great difficulties. Even his clothes were very much worn out. So, the Pundit used to beg for his meals. He went from House-to-House begging. “Please give me alms”. On seeing his old clothes many people were thinking that he is mad. So, saying “Go Away” they shut the door. For many days he did not even eaten. Once somehow he obtained new clothes. A rich man gave those clothes to the Pundit. Wearing tho ... read more

Five More Minutes While at the park one day, a woman sat down next to a man on a bench near a playground. “That’s my son over there,” she said, pointing to a little boy in a red sweater who was gliding down the slide. “He’s a fine looking boy” the man said. “That’s my daughter on the bike in the white dress.” Then, looking at his watch, he called to his daughter. “What do you say we go, Melissa?” Melissa pleaded, “Just five more minutes, Dad. Please? Just five more minutes.” The man nodded and Melissa continued to ride her bike to her heart’s content. Minutes passed and the father stood ... read more

Akram was sitting under a tree in the pasture near to the camps. He was counting the stars, which looked like diamonds twinkling in the darkness. Every night, Akram enjoyed making different shapes out of them: As a child, one of his favourite pastimes had been to sit outside at night with his grandfather, where together they enjoyed describing the different shapes that each constellation made. These memories were now the essence of his life, and it was one reason he liked this area of pastureland so much; it provided the perfect gateway to those precious childhood memories. He was a shepher ... read more

Written by Guy de Maupassant With the first day of spring, when the awakening earth puts on its garment of green, and the warm, fragrant air fans our faces and fills our lungs and appears even to penetrate to our hearts, we experience a vague, undefined longing for freedom, for happiness, a desire to run, to wander aimlessly, to breathe in the spring. The previous winter having been unusually severe, this spring feeling was like a form of intoxication in May, as if there were an overabundant supply of sap. One morning on waking I saw from my window the blue sky glowing in the sun above t ... read more

The Praying Hands Back in the fifteenth century, in a tiny village near Nuremberg, lived a family with eighteen children. Eighteen! In order merely to keep food on the table for this mob, the father and head of the household, a goldsmith by profession, worked almost eighteen hours a day at his trade and any other paying chore he could find in the neighborhood. Despite their seemingly hopeless condition, two of Albrecht Durer the Elder’s children had a dream. They both wanted to pursue their talent for art, but they knew full well that their father would never be financially able to send eit ... read more