Once upon a time there was a land where peace and prosperity ruled. Here the people celebrated and honored the heart. They were so enamored by the heart that the search for the most perfect and the most beautiful one seemed to be their country’s obsession.
One day a young man, a stranger, who shone with the vigor of youth, appeared in the town square of the capitol city. He called out to all of the people crowded around to gather and hear his proclamation. “Listen folks!” he exclaimed, “look at my heart! Isn’t it the most beautiful and perfect heart in all of our land?”
The large crowd that had gathered could not but admire his heart for it indeed seemed most beautiful and perfect. There was not a mark or flaw on it. The people nodded their heads in agreement; it truly was the most beautiful and perfect heart they had ever seen. Excited and full of pride at the people’s open admiration, the young man shouted, “Dear folks! You are looking at the most beautiful and perfect heart in all the land!” And the throng vociferously cheered him, except for one old man.
This elderly gentleman, slightly bent in the back, but whose face radiated serenity, slowly worked his way through the mass of people approaching the young man. When he reached him, the old man addressed the youth in a soft voice that remarkably reached the ears of all who were gathered. “Young man,” he said, “while on its surface your heart may appear to be the most beautiful and perfect in the land, I must tell you that it is not as beautiful or perfect as mine.”
At this point many in the crowd actually started laughing, because the old man’s heart looked quite odd. It was beating strongly, no doubt, but was full of scars and had places where pieces of it had been removed and had other pieces put in here and there which didn’t quite fit right. Also, there were too many jagged edges around the outside of his heart. In fact, in some places there were deep gouges where whole pieces were missing. Honestly, it seemed to the all who viewed it a pathetic sight to behold. It was completely contrary to the beautiful heart the young man displayed.
Several in the crowd mumbled that the old man was most certainly out of his mind, because there was no way one could compare his heart with that of the young man. And now the young man himself laughed sarcastically and said, “Grandpa, I know you are just kidding us all! Just look at my heart. You must admit it is, by far, more perfect and beautiful, not only than yours, but also of any other in our land.”
The old man smiled and then gently replied, “Yes, my dear young man, yours is a gorgeous one, yet I would never trade mine for yours.” Everyone gathered around were now becoming quite inquisitive; the noise level ebbed considerably. Then the old man continued in his soft and tempered tone, “You see, every scar in my heart represents a person to whom I have given my love–I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them, and often they give me a piece of their heart in return which fits into the empty space in my heart. But because the pieces aren’t exact, my heart is left with some rough edges. But I love them and cherish them, because they remind me of the love that was shared between us.”
The old man paused for a minute and not a sound was heard amid the large mass of people that now overflowed from the square. Then he smiled and continued, “You know, there have been times when I have given pieces of my heart away and the persons who received them did not return anything back to me. These are the empty gouges. They are a reminder that giving love always means taking a chance. Although these deep holes are painful, they stay open, reminding me always of the love I have for these people, and they help me to foster the hope that someday they may return and fill the space I have waiting for them.”
The old man then fixed his gaze upon the young man and remarked gravely, “So now do you see what true beauty and love is, my dear young man?”
The young man slowly felt his pride being washed away by the tears that were running down his cheeks. He was humbled by the simple wisdom that the old teacher had bestowed upon him. He embraced the old man and then he reached into his perfect, young and beautiful heart, and with a loud cry he ripped out a piece of his precious heart. With trembling hands and teary eyes, he presented it to the old man.
The wise old man accepted his offering, placed it in his heart and then lovingly took a piece from his old and scarred heart and placed it in the young man’s heart. It did fit the voided place, but not perfectly, as there were some misshapen edges.
The young man then looked at his heart; it was not “perfect” anymore, but he was not sad. For, though not of the perfect shape as before, it was now more beautiful and more fulfilling than ever since the gift of love from the old man’s heart now flowed into his. He felt more whole as new life coursed through his soul.
Then, the two men embraced and started to walk amid the crowd side by side. The gathered masses remained speechless and silently made way for the two. It was too profound and powerful a lesson to sink in easily; everyone who was a witness to this could not but start reflecting about the status of their own hearts…and how they could at least from that moment forward try to make their hearts more perfect and beautiful in the true way.
The only calibration that counts is how much heart people invest, how much they ignore their fears of being hurt or caught out or humiliated. And the only thing people regret is that they didn’t live boldly enough, that they didn’t invest enough heart, didn’t love enough. Nothing else really counts at all. ? Ted Hughes
Have an AWE-full Weekend!
William J. “Bill” Bacqué