May 13
Thoughts of my father, HH Shri Bhola Nathji (1902-1992) The founder of the World Prayer Day for peace.
The Rose and the Thorn
Deprived of the fragrance of softness of the Rose, the thorn in jealousy pricked the Rose maliciously. The Rose bled, and these drops carried with them the fragrance of the Rose. Drop by drop they fell upon the malignant thorn below. A petal of the Rose fell gently and was impaled on the thorn. The thorn was filled with fragrance and with the colour of the Rose. It was filled, too, with intense surprise.
“O, flower of the garden! In hatred and jealously I did hurt thee! I wished to do thee harm! But what is this that mine eyes behold? Thou hast filled me with thy fragrance. Thou hast showered upon me the coolness of thy blood. Thou hast sheltered me with thy soft petals. Is this thy revenge? If so, can ever revenge be so strange? Why didst thou not burn me in the flame of thy wrath?”
The flower replied:
“What thou hadst, thou gavest me.
What I had, I gavest thee in return.”
Whereupon the thorn was filled with remorse and said:
“I shall look upon thee, O Rose, as a thing ever so beautiful, but I shall look upon thee always from a distance, lest my ugliness hurt thee again! Never shall I sin again in hurting thee!”
The thorn, too, became a flower.
Goodness given in return for evil converts the evil to good.
Thoughts of my father, HH Shri Bhola Nathji (1902-1992) The founder of the World Prayer Day for peace.
The Rose and the Thorn
Deprived of the fragrance of softness of the Rose, the thorn in jealousy pricked the Rose maliciously. The Rose bled, and these drops carried with them the fragrance of the Rose. Drop by drop they fell upon the malignant thorn below. A petal of the Rose fell gently and was impaled on the thorn. The thorn was filled with fragrance and with the colour of the Rose. It was filled, too, with intense surprise.
“O, flower of the garden! In hatred and jealously I did hurt thee! I wished to do thee harm! But what is this that mine eyes behold? Thou hast filled me with thy fragrance. Thou hast showered upon me the coolness of thy blood. Thou hast sheltered me with thy soft petals. Is this thy revenge? If so, can ever revenge be so strange? Why didst thou not burn me in the flame of thy wrath?”
The flower replied:
“What thou hadst, thou gavest me.
What I had, I gavest thee in return.”
Whereupon the thorn was filled with remorse and said:
“I shall look upon thee, O Rose, as a thing ever so beautiful, but I shall look upon thee always from a distance, lest my ugliness hurt thee again! Never shall I sin again in hurting thee!”
The thorn, too, became a flower.
Goodness given in return for evil converts the evil to good.
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