Theos-Talk Archives (May 2000 Message tt00054)

Three Questions 
by Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy (Leo Tolstoy)

It once occurred to a certain king, that if he always knew the right time to 
begin everything; if he knew who were the right people to listen to, and 
whom to avoid, and, above all, if he always knew what was the most 
important thing to do, he would never fail in anything he might undertake. 

And this thought having occurred to him, he had it proclaimed throughout 
his kingdom that he would give a great reward to any one who would teach 
him what was the right time for every action, and who were the most 
necessary people, and how he might know what was the most important
thing to do. 

And learned men came to the King, but they all answered his questions 
differently...

All the answers being different, the King agreed with none of them, and gave 
the reward to none. But still wishing to find the right answers to his 
questions, 
he decided to consult a hermit, widely renowned for his wisdom. 

The hermit lived in a wood which he never quitted and he received none but 
common folk. So the King put on simple clothes, and before reaching the 
hermit's cell dismounted from his horse, and, leaving his bodyguard behind, 
went on alone. 

When the King approached, the hermit was digging the ground in front of 
his hut. Seeing the King, he greeted him and went on digging. The hermit 
was frail and weak, and each time he stuck his spade into the ground and 
turned a little earth, he breathed heavily. 

The King went up to him and said: 'I have come to you, wise hermit, to ask 
you to answer three questions: How can I learn to do the right thing at the 
right time? Who are the people I most need, and to whom should I, therefore, 
pay more attention than to the rest? And, what affairs are the most 
important and need my first attention?' 

The hermit listened to the King, but answered nothing. He just spat on his 
hand and recommenced digging. 

'You are tired,' said the King, 'let me take the spade and work awhile for 
you.' 

'Thanks!' said the hermit, and, giving the spade to the King, he sat down on 
the ground. 

When he had dug two beds, the King stopped and repeated his questions. 
The hermit again gave no answer, but rose, stretched out his hand for the 
spade, and said: 

'Now rest awhile -- and let me work a bit.' 

But the King did not give him the spade, and continued to dig. One hour 
passed, and another. The sun began to sink behind the trees, and the King 
at last stuck the spade into the ground, and said: 

'I came to you, wise man, for an answer to my questions. If you can give me 
none, tell me so, and I will return home.' 

'Here comes some one running,' said the hermit, 'let us see who it is.' 

The King turned round, and saw a bearded man come running out of the 
wood. The man held his hands pressed against his stomach, and blood was 
flowing from under them. When he reached the King, he fell fainting on the 
ground moaning feebly. The King and the hermit unfastened the man's 
clothing. There was a large wound in his stomach. The King washed it as 
best he could, and bandaged it with his handkerchief and with a towel the 
hermit had. But the blood would not stop flowing, and the King again and 
again removed the bandage soaked with warm blood, and washed and 
rebandaged the wound. When at last the blood ceased flowing, the man 
revived and asked for something to drink. The King brought fresh water and 
gave it to him. Meanwhile the sun had set, and it had become cool. So the 
King, with the hermit's help, carried the wounded man into the hut and laid 
him on the bed. Lying on the bed the man closed his eyes and was quiet; 
but the King was so tired with his walk and with the work he had done, that 
he crouched down on the threshold, and also fell asleep -- so soundly that 
he slept all through the short summer night. When he awoke in the morning, 
it was long before he could remember where he was, or who was the strange 
bearded man lying on the bed and gazing intently at him with shining eyes. 

'Forgive me!' said the bearded man in a weak voice, when he saw that the 
King was awake and was looking at him. 

'I do not know you, and have nothing to forgive you for,' said the King. 

'You do not know me, but I know you. I am that enemy of yours who swore 
to revenge himself on you, because you executed his brother and seized 
his property. I knew you had gone alone to see the hermit, and I resolved to 
kill you on your way back. But the day passed and you did not return. So I 
came out from my ambush to find you, and I came upon your bodyguard, 
and they recognized me, and wounded me. I escaped from them, but should 
have bled to death had you not dressed my wound. I wished to kill you, and 
you have saved my life. Now, if I live, and if you wish it, I will serve you 
as 
your most faithful slave, and will bid my sons do the same. Forgive me!' 

The King was very glad to have made peace with his enemy so easily, and 
to have gained him for a friend, and he not only forgave him, but said he 
would send his servants and his own physician to attend him, and promised 
to restore his property. 

Having taken leave of the wounded man, the King went out into the porch 
and looked around for the hermit. Before going away he wished once more 
to beg an answer to the questions he had put. The hermit was outside, on 
his knees, sowing seeds in the beds that had been dug the day before. 

The King approached him, and said: 

'For the last time, I pray you to answer my questions, wise man.' 

'You have already been answered!' said the hermit still crouching on his thin 
legs, and looking up at the King, who stood before him. 

'How answered? What do you mean?' asked the King. 

'Do you not see,' replied the hermit. 'If you had not pitied my weakness 
yesterday, and had not dug these beds for me, but had gone your way, that 
man would have attacked you, and you would have repented of not having 
stayed with me. So the most important time was when you were digging the 
beds; and I was the most important man; and to do me good was your 
most important business. Afterwards, when that man ran to us, the most 
important time was when you were attending to him, for if you had not bound 
up his wounds he would have died without having made peace with you. So 
he was the most important man, and what you did for him was your most 
important business. Remember then: there is only one time that is important 
-- Now! It is the most important time because it is the only time when we 
have any power. The most necessary man is he with whom you are, for no 
man knows whether he will ever have dealings with any one else: and the 
most important affair is, to do him good, because for that purpose alone was 
man sent into this life!' 

1903. 

(from http://www.tolstoy.org/) 

Appendix 

"How can we live in the present moment, live now with the people around us, 
helping to lessen their suffering and making their lives happier? How? The 
answer is this: We must practice mindfulness. The principle Tolstoy gives 
appears easy. But if we want to put it into practice we must use the method 
of minfulness in order to seek and find the way."-- Thich Nhat Hanh. 

(Editor: Leo Tolstoy may not be a buddhist in the conventional and dogmatic 
sense, but this story of his definitely is. When we strip away all the labels 
we 
give to others and look only at the person and their deeds, we would come to 
the conclusion that practitioners of different spiritual traditions have much 
to 
learn from each other...)

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