All the rich men in his region envied one poor Chinese man because he owned a marvelous white horse. Every time someone offered him a fortune for the animal, the old man replied:
– That horse is much more to me than an animal, it is a friend. I cannot sell it.
One day the horse disappeared. The neighbors gathered around the empty stable and said:
– Poor fool. You should have known the horse would be stolen. Why didn’t you sell it? What a misfortune.
But the peasant was more restrained:
– Let us not exaggerate, he said. Let us simply say that the horse is not in the stable. That is a fact. Everything else is only your judgment. Who knows whether this is good fortune or bad? We only know a fragment of the story. Who knows what will happen next?
People laughed at the old man. They had long considered him eccentric.
Two weeks later the white horse returned. It had not been stolen, it had merely run free, and when it came back it brought a dozen wild horses with it. The villagers gathered again:
– You were right, this is not a misfortune, it is a blessing.
– I would not be so sure, the peasant replied. It is enough to say that the white horse returned. Who knows whether it is luck or bad luck? It is just an incident. Can you understand the meaning of a whole book after reading only one sentence?
The villagers went away convinced the old man had lost his mind. To receive a dozen magnificent horses was clearly a gift from heaven. How could anyone deny that? The peasant’s son began taming the wild horses. One of them threw him to the ground and crippled him. Once again the villagers came to offer their verdict:
– Poor friend. You were right, those wild horses brought you no luck. Your only son is now crippled. Who will help you in your old age? You really are to be pitied.
– We shall see, the peasant replied. Do not hurry. My son cannot walk, that is all. Life moves in tiny steps. No one can predict the future.
Some time later war broke out, and all the young men except the crippled one were taken into the army.
– Old man, cried the villagers, you were right. Your son cannot walk, but he is here with you, while our sons will be killed.
– Please, the peasant replied, do not judge too quickly. Your boys were taken into the army, mine remains at home. That is all that can be said. Only God knows whether this is good or bad.