End Kwote

After it's all said and done, life's just a bunch of kwotes

Three students, young boys, sat in a classroom. It was a Bible study. Their teacher was an old rabbi.

The rabbi had been lecturing for an hour or so, his voice crackling like the dry pages of the oldest scripture. Tired and uninterested, the boys dozed. They paid no attention.

Wise and experienced, the rabbi recognized this ignorance.

He closed his book loudly enough to bring them back from their daydreams.

He spoke.

“Answer me this question,” he said. “How do we know that the night has ended and the day begun?”

The boys, now attentive, thought.

One looked up, the answer shining in his eyes. “The night has ended and the day begun when we can look into the distance and tell the difference between a camel and a horse,” the boy said, satisfied.

The rabbi looked at him and smiled. “No,” he said.

The boy’s eyes faded, and he looked down at his desk. But no sooner than the boy deflated, another looked up, the answer shining in his eyes. He said, “The night has ended and the day begun when we can look into the distance and tell the difference between a dog and a sheep.”

The rabbi looked at him and smiled. “No,” he said.

Now there was only one student left to answer, and certainly he would answer true.

The last boy looked up, the answer shining in his eyes and said, “The night has ended and the day begun when we can look into the distance and tell the difference between a black thread and a white thread.”

The rabbi, happy with this participation, looked kindly on the last boy. He said, “No.”

Puzzled, the three students sat staring at their desks. They waited impatiently for the rabbi to tell them the answer to his question.

The rabbi breathed a deep breath and moved close to his students. He pulled a chair from behind one of the desks, and – with them – he sat.

He spoke.

“We know that the night has ended and the day begun when we can look into the faces of those around us and recognize them to be the faces of our brothers and sisters.”

They sat together, quietly. Minutes passed until the rabbi stood up and returned his chair. “You may go,” he said. The three looked at each other and stood to leave.

As they left the room, each thanked the Rabbi for the day’s lesson. And, though he didn’t show it, the rabbi knew he had done them well.


 

One of my professors told me this story today, and I thought it would be cool to do my own version. The only reason I’m telling you that is because I can’t, in good conscience, take credit for it. I’ve brought it to light in a different way, but the idea wasn’t mine.

Of course, thoughts and insights are appreciated.

Hope you enjoyed.

End Kwote

3 thoughts on “The Old Rabbi

    1. End Kwote says:

      Thank you! I appreciate that

  1. The world has a long way to go before we can tell the difference between day & night.

Have a thought? Want to comment? Well you can do it. Right here. In this comment box.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

The Best Advice So Far

Thoughts on Living Like It Matters

Drew Chial

Advice for writers, stories about the world they live in.

Call Me Incorrigible

Rainbows, I'm Inclined To Pursue

Taking Words for a Stroll

Original poems for the young at heart

Cease, Cows

After it's all said and done, life's just a bunch of kwotes

Message in a Bottle

Swimming in Big Chunks of Truth

%d bloggers like this: