How to Punish the Wolf

~ How to Punish the Wolf ~

One day the Hodja was chopping woods in the forest. He had left his donkey at the bottom of the hill. While the Hodja was busy, a wolf came and attacked his donkey. Just as the wolf was about to finish his meal, a passer-by saw what had happened and informed the Hodja.

`Hodja Effendi, quick! The wolf ate your donkey and now he is escaping up the hill!'

Nasreddin Hodja came down and saw the bones of his donkey.

`Effendi, the donkey is already dead, nothing to be done about that.' he said, `As for the wolf, running uphill with a full stomach is enough punishment for him.'

Gift Rabbit

A few people from another village, mere acquaintances of Mullah Nasruddin, were in Aksehir for some trade business. At the end of the day, they knocked on Hodja's door.

`Hodja Effendi, since we were in town, we thought we should pay you a little visit. And, here is a rabbit as a token of our respect for you.'

Hodja welcomed the guests as is the Turkish tradition and asked them to stay for dinner. Hodja's wife cooked the rabbit and they all made a good meal of it. A few days later, there were people at the door again. Hodja didn't know who they were, so they had to introduce themselves.

`Nasreddin Hodja, we are the relatives of the folks who brought you the rabbit.' they explained. They were passing through Aksehir and they thought they drop by. Nasreddin Hodja and his wife opened their home to them as well. They served soup for dinner.

`It is the broth of the rabbit.' elucidated the Hodja.

Another couple of days passed and there was yet another group of strangers at Hodja's door

`We come from the neighbour village of the people who brought you the rabbit.' they said. Hodja had no choice but to let them in. When it was dinner time, Hodja brought a large pot full of well water to the table.

`What is this, Hodja Effendi?' inquired the displeased guests.

`It is the broth of the broth of the rabbit.' Hodja snapped.

Parable of the People with a Higher Aim

Imam El-Ghazali relates to tradition form the life of Isa, ibn Maryam: Jesus, Son of Mary.

Isa one day saw some people sitting miserably on a wall, by the roadside. He asked: 'What is your affliction?' The said: 'We have become like this through our fear of Hell.'

He went on his way, and saw a number of people grouped disconsolately in various postures by the wayside. 

He said: 'What is your affliction?' They said: 'Desire for Paradise has made us like this.'

He went on his way, until he came to a third group of people. They looked like people who had endured much, but their faces shone with joy.

Isa asked them: 'What has made you like this?' and they answered: 'The Spirit of Truth. 

We have seen Reality, and this has made us oblivious of lesser goals.'

Isa said: 'These are the people who attain. On the Day of Accounting these are they who will be in the Presence of God.'

Hot Soup

~ Hot Soup ~

One day Nasreddin Hodja's wife made soup for dinner. During the rush of dinner preparation, she didn't realize that the soup was still boiling hot when she brought it to the table. It was she who took the first spoonful and when her mouth burned, tears came down from her eyes.

`Woman, why are you crying?' the Hodja asked.

`Oh, nothing.' said Hodja's wife, `I just remembered my mother, may she rest in peace, she used to love this soup.' As she spoke, Nasreddin Hodja took a spoonful of the soup. This time his mouth was burnt and tears came down his eyes.

`Why are you crying?' asked his wife.

`I am crying because,' the Hodja said, trying not to show his anger, `your good old mother died and left such a merciless daughter behind.'

Degree of Grievance

~ Degree of Grievance ~

When Nasreddin Hodja's wife died, he didn't mourn for long, in fact he seemed to be indifferent. However, a few months later, when his donkey died, he was very upset. He cried for days and lamented its loss. The villagers were curious.

`Hodja Effendi, when your wife died, you didn't grieve at all. But your donkey's death shook you very deeply. You can't seem to get over it. What's the matter?'

`The night of my wife's funeral, all the neighbours, friends, relatives, gathered in my house and said: `Don't worry, Hodja Effendi, we'll find you a younger, prettier bride, we'll wed you again, there are many good women out there, you won't be alone for long, we'll get you a better wife." Now, my donkey is dead, but nobody is telling me that they would get me a younger, better donkey.'