sexta-feira, 29 de julho de 2011

~ The Butterfly is ... ~


There was once a widower who had two bright daughters who were so curious about everything that they kept asking questions. Questions, questions, questions…
And though their father could answer some of their questions, there were many that he just couldn’t answer. And he began to feel they needed someone who could.
So, he decided to send them to live with the wise old man who lived on the hill, which was what you did those days.

So off they went to live with the wise old man. And they continued to ask questions. Questions, questions, questions… But, unlike their father, the wise old man always had an answer. He could answer every single question they asked.

At first, this was delightful. But as time went by, the girls began to find it very irritating that, no matter what they asked, the wise old man always had an answer. So they began to search for ways to catch him out.

One day, one sister ran up to the other with a beautiful bright blue butterfly in her hands. ‘I’ve got this great idea’, she said. ‘I’ve just found this butterfly, and I thought I’d hide it in my hands and go and ask the wise old man whether it’s alive or dead. If he says it’s dead, I’ll open my hands and let it fly out. If he says it’s alive, I’ll give a quick hard squeeze and open my hands, and say ‘Wrong, it’s dead.’ So, whatever he says, he can’t win.’ ‘Brilliant’, said her sister. And off they went to find the wise old man.

Eventually they found him sitting on a rock under a eucalyptus tree. The girls rushed up. ‘Oh, wise old man’, said the sister with the butterfly, ‘I’ve got this butterfly in my hands, and I want you to tell me if it’s alive or dead.’

The wise old man looked at the two sisters for a moment and thought. Then he smiled. ‘My dears’, he said, ‘the butterfly is … in your hands.’

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