How to Hunt a Monkey
“Do you know how hunters of old used to trap monkeys?” A man asked his child.
“Rather than chasing them up a tree or shooting arrows from below, they’d put a heavy glass jar with a narrow neck on the floor, which had the monkeys’ favourite food inside.
They’d then step back and hide, waiting for the unsuspecting animal to approach.
When it did, the monkey would reach inside, clench a fist around the food, and try to pull it out. However, the narrow neck of the jar would stop the poor monkey from getting its hand out!
It’d pull and pull, but to no avail. There was simply no way to get its hand out of the jar without releasing the food.
Rather than letting go, though, the monkey would persevere, refusing to drop its dinner.
The hunters would then approach and catch it to enjoy a meal of their own.”
“Don’t be like that monkey,” warned the man, “In life, to fight another day and grow as person, you must know when to quit, when to move on, and when to let go of whatever’s holding you back.”
Moral of the story:
Sometimes you have to let go and give up what you have now in order to receive something better in the future. Don’t let stubbornness be your downfall!
The Baker and the Butter
A long time ago, a baker and a farmer lived in the same small English village.
These two men had a friendly arrangement in place, where the farmer would sell a pound of butter to the baker each day.
One morning, the baker decided to weigh the butter to see if he’d received the correct amount.
To his surprise, he discovered that the farmer had sold him less butter than he’d paid for.
Angry about the unfairness, he took the farmer to court.
At the hearing, the judge asked the farmer whether he used any measure to weigh the butter.
“Your honour, I am but a lowly farmer and do not own a proper measure. I simply use an old-fashioned scale,” he replied.
“How do you weight the butter then?” Enquired the judge.
To this the farmer answered:
“Your honour, long before the baker started buying butter from my farm, I’ve been buying a pound loaf of bread from him. Every day when he brings me the bread, I place it on my scale and give him the same weight in butter. If anyone is to be blamed, it’s the baker.”
Moral of the story:
Karma’s true! Be kind and fair to others and you’ll enjoy the rewards.
The Story of the Fig Tree
I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked.
One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out.
I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose.
I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.
Moral of the story:
Decide! Take action.
There’s no right or wrong answer when you’re choosing between two positive routes or outcomes. Wait too long and the decision will be made for you.
