The Story of the Wallet

The Story of the Wallet

Once an old man was traveling by train on a pilgrimage to Brindavan. At night, whilst he was asleep, his wallet fell from his pocket. A co-passenger found it the next morning and enquired as to whom the wallet belonged. The old man said it was his. A picture of Sri Krishna inside the wallet was proof that the wallet really belonged to him.

The old man then began to relate the story of the wallet. He soon had a group of eager listeners around him. Lifting up the purse for all to see, the old man said: This purse has a long history behind it. My father gave it to me years ago when I was a mere schoolboy. I kept my little pocket money in it and also a photograph of my parents.

Years passed. I grew up and began studying at university. Like every youth, I became conscious of my appearance. I replaced my parents' photograph with that of my own and I would look at it often. I had become my own admirer.

Then came marriage. Self-admiration gave way to the consciousness of a family. Out went my own picture and I replaced it with that of my wife's. During the day I would open the wallet many times and gaze at the picture. All tiredness vanished and I would resume my work with enthusiasm.

Then came the birth of my first child. What a joy I experienced when I became a father! I would eagerly rush home after work to play with my little baby. Needless to say, my wife's picture had already made way for the child's.

The old man paused. Wiping his tearful eyes, he looked around and said in a sad voice: Friends, my parents passed away long ago. My wife too died five years ago. My son- my only son- is now married. He is too busy with his career and his family. He has no time for me. I now stand on the brink of death. I do not know what awaits me in future. Everything I loved, everything I considered my own, has left me.

A picture of the Lord now occupies the place in my wallet. I know He will never leave me. I wish now that I had kept HIS picture with me right from the beginning (and HIS thought in my mind)! He alone is true; all others are just passing shadows….

Simply marvelous

As I sit in my office later I come across a piece of paper with some very forceful and deliberate words expressed therein. They are from a speech made by the 26th President of the United states of America, Theodore Roosevelt in 1910 at the Sorbonne in Paris -



‘It is not the critic who counts ; not the man who points out how the strong man , or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood ; who strives valiantly ; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming ; but who does actually strive to do the deeds ; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions ; who spends himself in a worthy cause ; who at best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory or defeat.’



Simply marvelous. One does not need to elaborate any further.