The master looked as his students carefully as they sat, encircling him, looking with rapt attention.
“Today, I will teach you to put your self always in the other’s shoes.
Once, there were six blind men who were walking through town when they came upon an elephant. None of them had met an elephant before and they were quite baffled at what to make of this beast, who for some reason, stood obligingly still while they made their observations.
One felt the tail: ‘It’s like a snake,’ he cried.
Another was hit by one of the animal’s large ears. “No, it’s like a plant leaf.’
And as each felt a part of the elephant, each expressed a different view—a tree trunk, a water spout. And after they animal moved, they grouped together, each giving a different view, each growing more insistent of the rightness of their observation.
“And, so,” said the master, “We can learn a great lesson from this? And what is that lesson.”
Jemu, the youngest raised his hand.
“You have the answer, my son?”
“Yes. When you’re in the market for a new elephant, don’t send a bunch of blind guys to do the shopping.”
No comments:
Post a Comment