Once upon a time there lived a woman who had two daughters. The elder daughter was very much like her mother in both face and manner. They were both so disagreeable and so proud that they were shunned and avoided by all who knew them.
The younger daughter, however, was her handsome and pleasant father’s child. She was good and sweet-tempered, and very beautiful. As people tend to naturally like their own likeness, the mother was very fond of her elder daughter, and at the same time had a great dislike for the younger. The mother lashed her younger daughter at any perceived omission or transgression. She made her eat all her meals in the hot kitchen and she was appointed to do all of the household chores while the mother and eldest daughter did nothing and complained of the incompetency of all who did. They also constantly traded compliments on how significant, important, and superior they were in all ways and in comparison to all others.
One of the many menial tasks that was required of the younger daughter was that she was obliged to draw a pitcherful of water twice a day from the spring located in the woods some two miles from their home.
One day, when she reached the spring, a poor and stooped old woman approached her and begged her to if she would be so kind as to help her fetch a drink from the spring.
“Oh yes! With all my heart, I would be happy to help you, ma’am,” answered the pretty little girl. She then took her pitcher and scooped up a draft of cool, clear water from the spring and then held the pitcher up to the poor woman’s mouth so that she could more easily drink all that she wished with ease.
When she had finished, the old woman smiled and said, “You are so very pretty both inside and out, my dear, so good and so kind, that I cannot help giving you a gift.:
Now the old woman was really a powerful fairy, who had taken the form of a poor and old country woman to test how she would be treated by this pretty young lass. “I will give you a gift,” continued the fairy, “that at every word you speak, either a flower or a jewel shall come out of your mouth.”
When the little girl reached home, her mother scolded and beat her for staying so long at the spring. “I beg your pardon, Mamma, for not making more haste,” replied the little girl. And as she spoke, there came out of her mouth two roses, two pearls, and two large diamonds.
“What is it I see there?” the mother inquired, very much surprised. “Is my eyesight correct? Do I see what I think I see – diamonds, pearls and flowers flowing from your mouth? How can this be happening, my dear child?” This was the first time the mother had ever called the little girl “child,” let alone “dear child” or spoken kindly to her at all for saying anything nice or endearing was not in her nature.
The child explained to her mother all that had happened to her when she visited the spring including the old woman’s promised gift. All the time she was explaining, jewels and flowers fell from her lips.
“This is delightful,” exclaimed the mother. “I must send my dearest child to the spring. Come, elder daughter, see what comes out of your sister’s mouth when she speaks! Would you not be glad, my dear, to have the same gift given to you? All that is necessary is that you take the pitcher to the spring in the woods and when a poor woman approaches you begging for water, you simply give it to her.”
“While it might be a fine thing to do,” said the selfish girl, “I will not lower myself to being a water carrier. No, not for anyone or anything. My simple sister can give me her jewels. She certainly doesn’t need them.”
“Yes, you shall go,” retorted the mother, “and you shall go this minute.”
So the elder daughter went, grumbling and scolding the entire way, and taking with her the best silver pitcher in the house, for she felt bearing anything less would be beneath her.
She had no sooner reached the spring than she saw a beautiful lady coming out of the woods. The lady approached the elder daughter and asked if she would be so kind as to fetch her a drink from the cool spring. This was, as you must have now deduced, the same fairy who had earlier met her sister, except she had now taken the form of a princess.
“I did not come all this way out here to serve you with water,” uttered the proud, selfish sister. “Do you think I brought this fine silver pitcher so far just to give you a drink? You can draw water from the spring just as well as I.”
“You are not very polite,” replied the fairy sternly. “And since your words are so rude and so unkind, I give you for a gift that at every word you speak henceforth, toads and serpents shall come out of your mouth.”
As soon as the mother saw her favorite daughter approaching their home, she cried out, “Well, my dear child, did you see the good fairy?”
“Yes, Mother,” answered the proud girl, and as she spoke, two serpents and two toads fell from her mouth.
“What is this I see?” cried the mother. “What have you done?”
The girl tried to answer, but every time she tried to form a word toads and serpents fell from her lips.
And so it was forever after. Jewels and flowers fell from the lips of the younger daughter, who was so good and kind, but the elder daughter could never speak again without emitting a shower of serpents and toads.
This is my simple religion. No need for temples. No need for complicated philosophy. Your own mind, your own heart is the temple. Your philosophy is simple kindness.”
– Dalai Lama XIV
Have an AWE-full weekend!
William J. “Bill” Bacqué