The beggar went on his way. He looked at the rags he was wearing and sighed. Surely only kings and their families wore royal robes, he thought. Slowly an idea crept into his mind. The audacity of it made him tremble. Would he dare?
He made his way back to the palace. He approached the guard at the gate. "Please, sire, I would like to speak to the king."
"Wait here," the guard replied. In a few minutes, he was back. "His majesty will see you," he said, and led the beggar in.
"You wish to see me?" asked the king.
"Yes, your majesty. I want so much to attend the banquet, but I have no royal robes to wear. Please, sir, if I may be so bold, may I have one of your old garments so that I, too, may come to the banquet?"
The beggar shook so hard that he could not see the faint smile that was on the king's face. "You have been wise in coming to me," the king said. He called to his son, the young prince. "Take this man to your room and array him in some of your clothes."
The prince did as he was told and soon the beggar was standing before a mirror, clothed in garments that he had never dared hope for.
"You are now eligible to attend the king's banquet tomorrow night," said the prince. "But even more important, you will never need any other clothes. These garments will last forever."
The beggar dropped to his knees. "Oh, thank you," he cried. But as he started to leave, he looked back at his pile of dirty rags on the floor. He hesitated. What if the prince was wrong? What if he would need his old clothes again. Quickly he gathered them up.
The banquet was far greater than he had ever imagined, but he could not enjoy himself as he should. He had made a small bundle of his old rags and it kept falling off his lap. The food was passed quickly and the beggar missed some of the greatest delicacies.
Time proved that the prince was right. The clothes lasted forever. Still the poor beggar grew fonder and fonder of his old rags. As time passed people seemed to forget the royal robes he was wearing. They saw only the little bundle of filthy rags that he clung to wherever he went. They even spoke of him as the old man with the rags.
One day as he lay dying, the king visited him. The beggar saw the sad look on the king's face when he looked at the small bundle of rags by the bed.
Suddenly the beggar remembered the prince's words and he realized that his bundle of rags had cost him a lifetime of true royalty. He wept bitterly at his folly. And the king wept with him.
~Steve Malone
This is not a new story, most of us have probably heard it before. The message is somewhat simplistic, I know. However, I wanted to post it because I think the message of this parable is important. Especially now as our project is winding down.
I have such a strong tendency to cling to my "stuff." And I don't just mean my emotional internal "stuff," I also mean my old broken down stuff. For example, when I was given a brand new television - I had a really hard time NOT keeping my two old broke down not working televisions. What's up with that? It is comforting to know that I'm not the only one who does this - if I were, there wouldn't be stories like this.
Which makes me wonder if clinging to old and broken things is simply an outward manifestation of clinging to old and broken ideas and feelings. And if so, will getting rid of the things also get rid of the ideas and feelings? Or does it need to be the other way around?
And what about you? Do you hang on to your old stuff too? Do you, like me, have broke-down, useless, outdated, not very pretty stuff hanging around in your head and heart?
Feedback - that's the name of the post from back in 2006. I'm always digging feedback. It fuels my brain, gives me the energy and enthusiasm to keep on keeping on with this project, plus I think it helps those people who come along later on looking for something to make their lives better.
Posts
0 comments:
Post a Comment