The parable of the lonely rose flower
Again he taught them and said:
Once there was a man, passing by a lonely rose flower on the fence. He asked the flower - Oh flower, it is a pity that you are here, by the fence, by the roadside. The beauty of your white petals blotted by the settled dust from ongoing traffic. Whatever scent you ever had, has flown away in the gusty wind. In your solitude, you don't even form part of a pattern that onlookers can enjoy. Is it fair to say that your very existance is empty and meaningless?
The flower responded. Oh passer-by! your question has been answered by your own question. I have been waiting here all these days, suffering the wind and dust, for that one man, who being one in a thousand would stop by and ask of me an existential question. If I could evoke such thoughts even in one man, my very existance has been purposeful.
Answering thus, the flower fell down on the ground, having lived a fulfilled life.
Once there was a man, passing by a lonely rose flower on the fence. He asked the flower - Oh flower, it is a pity that you are here, by the fence, by the roadside. The beauty of your white petals blotted by the settled dust from ongoing traffic. Whatever scent you ever had, has flown away in the gusty wind. In your solitude, you don't even form part of a pattern that onlookers can enjoy. Is it fair to say that your very existance is empty and meaningless?
The flower responded. Oh passer-by! your question has been answered by your own question. I have been waiting here all these days, suffering the wind and dust, for that one man, who being one in a thousand would stop by and ask of me an existential question. If I could evoke such thoughts even in one man, my very existance has been purposeful.
Answering thus, the flower fell down on the ground, having lived a fulfilled life.
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