One day, a traveler
came to a place. Not far away, a path winds on, hidden in the green woods.
Follow the road to walk, came to a fence. Wooden doors wide opened. He followed
the paved trail to move on. Blocks out the sun and shading woods, strewn with
white stones. Travelers bent to a closer look, the stones were engraved with
handwriting: Abdul Tower Iger, live 8 years, 6 months and 3 days. When he
realized it was a tombstone, his heart could not help but shocked, and so small
a child died. He turned to another piece of stone, inscribed: Tony lived for
five years, eight months and three weeks. Look around, it seemed that
tombstone, it was a cemetery. He went on to read a few tombstones were the same
form: a name, a life time. The longest was only 11 years. Their life was too
short, travelers began to cry sadly.
Hearing the cries, an old man came over. He was responsible for
guarding the graveyard. The traveler asked: “Did there have disaster? Why all
the dead were children? Or are there any terrible spell?”
The old man smiled and said: “Do not be afraid of what disaster
had happened, and there is no terrible spell. We have an ancient custom here:
When a person grows to the age of 15, parents will give him a book from,
whenever the face of a happy thing, he would open the book, write it down on
the left to write on what is happy, the right to write this happiness lasted
long. For example, he met his fiancée, into love and how long the joy of their
acquaintance lasted, is one week or three weeks; the first time he kissed her;
his wife pregnant, first child was born; him to go traveling in a foreign land;
he met old acquaintances, how long are these bring him happiness, is a few
hours or days? So little by little, in his book on a note of every pleasure he
experienced when he died, according to our customs, open his book, plus his
happy time together, calculate the sum, this time is engraved on his tombstone.
In our opinion, this is the real life of a person time.”
0 comments:
Post a Comment