Having a Best Friend – The Lesson of the Desert
The sun slowly sank behind the red dunes, painting the desert in shades of gold and crimson. The two friends walked in silence, the cool wind brushing against their tired faces. Between them lay not only footprints in the sand, but also lessons written in their hearts.
As they reached the oasis, they sat beneath a date palm. The soft rustle of the leaves whispered like an old storyteller — the kind that elders in the village used to be. The elder would say, “Friendship is like a clay pot: when broken, it can be mended, but the mark remains to remind us of care.”
The friend who had been slapped looked at his companion and smiled.
“You know,” he said, “my grandfather used to tell me, when two people travel together, they don’t just share the road, they share their souls. Sometimes, the desert tests friendship — not to break it, but to make it stronger.”
The one who had slapped him bowed his head in shame. “I let anger blind me,” he said. “You could have left me, but you didn’t.”
The other placed his hand gently on his friend’s shoulder. “In our culture,” he said, “a true friend is not the one who never hurts you — but the one who never leaves you, even after hurting you.”
That night, they made a small fire. The flames danced in silence while the stars appeared, one by one, across the vast desert sky. In that quiet moment, they understood that friendship, like the desert itself, could be harsh and unforgiving — yet it also held beauty, mystery, and warmth for those who stayed.
When they finally reached the village days later, the man who had once been slapped carved a new line on a piece of wood, to hang by his door. It read:
“Let what hurts be carried away by the wind,
and let what heals be kept in the heart.”
And every traveler who passed by would pause, read those words, and smile — for the wisdom of the desert had found a new home.
Apakah kamu mau saya buatkan versi HTML-nya yang valid untuk blog di HP, biar bisa langsung kamu posting juga?
Having a Best Friend – The Lesson of the Desert
The sun slowly sank behind the red dunes, painting the desert in shades of gold and crimson. The two friends walked in silence, the cool wind brushing against their tired faces. Between them lay not only footprints in the sand, but also lessons written in their hearts.
As they reached the oasis, they sat beneath a date palm. The soft rustle of the leaves whispered like an old storyteller — the kind that elders in the village used to be. The elder would say, “Friendship is like a clay pot: when broken, it can be mended, but the mark remains to remind us of care.”
The friend who had been slapped looked at his companion and smiled.
“You know,” he said, “my grandfather used to tell me, when two people travel together, they don’t just share the road, they share their souls. Sometimes, the desert tests friendship — not to break it, but to make it stronger.”
The one who had slapped him bowed his head in shame. “I let anger blind me,” he said. “You could have left me, but you didn’t.”
The other placed his hand gently on his friend’s shoulder. “In our culture,” he said, “a true friend is not the one who never hurts you — but the one who never leaves you, even after hurting you.”
That night, they made a small fire. The flames danced in silence while the stars appeared, one by one, across the vast desert sky. In that quiet moment, they understood that friendship, like the desert itself, could be harsh and unforgiving — yet it also held beauty, mystery, and warmth for those who stayed.
When they finally reached the village days later, the man who had once been slapped carved a new line on a piece of wood, to hang by his door. It read:
“Let what hurts be carried away by the wind,
and let what heals be kept in the heart.”
And every traveler who passed by would pause, read those words, and smile — for the wisdom of the desert had found a new home.
No comments:
Post a Comment