Diamonds in the Rough
There was a farmer in Africa who was happy and content. He was grateful for all he had and life was good. Then one day a wise man came to him and told him about the glory of diamonds and the power that goes along with them.
The wise man said, “If you had a diamond the size of your thumb, you could have your own city. If you had a diamond the size of your fist, you could probably own your own country.” And then he went away.
That night the farmer couldn’t sleep. He was unhappy and discontent. He was unhappy because he didn’t have any diamonds or any of the treasures they could bring. The next morning he made arrangements to sell off his farm, took care of his family and went in search of diamonds.
He looked all over Africa and Europe but couldn’t find any diamonds. When he got to Spain, he was emotionally, physically and financially broke. He got so disheartened that he threw himself into the Barcelona River and committed suicide.
Back home, the person who had bought his farm was watering the camels at a stream that ran through the farm. Across the stream, the rays of the morning sun hit a stone and made it sparkle like a rainbow. He picked up the stone and put it in the living room.
That afternoon the wise man came and saw the stone sparkling. He asked about farmer. The new owner said, “He is gone, I bought the farm a year ago… why do you ask?”
The wise man said, “Because that is a diamond. I recognize one when I see one.”
The man said, “No, that’s just a stone I picked up from the stream. Come, I’ll show you. There are many more.”
They went and picked some samples and sent them for analysis. Sure enough, the stones were diamonds. They found that the farm was indeed covered with acres and acres of diamonds.
Moral of the Story:
When our attitude is right, we realize that we are all walking on acres and acres of diamonds.
Opportunity is always under our feet. We don’t have to go anywhere. All we need to do is recognize it.
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Let us be grateful to the people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom. –Marcel Proust
Thanks for the share, WK!
