Not To Be Sold

Nobody knew who she was nor where she came from. Clad in thread-worn faded clothes adorned with strings of beads, and sporting a weathered leather hat, she turned up quietly one morning in the open market square and proceeded to display her wares on a rough hewn wooden tray. "Sunlight in a Vial. Free Samples", her sign said."Take your pick: Morning glow - Twilight gloaming - Midday splendor - Crystal Halo and Lakeside fantasy also available when in season". Little bottles stood in rows, each one shimmering with its own kaleidoscope of colors. O how they sparkled, sending occasional flashes of quicksilver right across the square!

By and by, busy housewives came around out of curiosity. They took a look, turned up their noses and left. "We have better things to do than play around with colored glass," they sniggered. "She can only be a fake: no one's ever managed to bottle sunlight. What nonsense!" they sniffed. The Old Woman had no takers that day. The next day was pretty much the same, except that her tray nearly up-ended when playful kids jostled.

On the third day an obviously wealthy couple dropped by and took one 'for a laugh' as the man said. "If it does nothing, it costs nothing anyway. And if it's any good, why it's priceless. So why not?" he reckoned.

Nothing of great import happened on the fourth day.

The rich man came running back by himself on the fifth day saying excitedly, "Quick, give me fifty!" He hurriedly grabbed what he wanted then sped away. Now this did not escape the attention of bystanders and before you could say one, two, three, her entire stock had gone.

Two days later the rich man returned to denounce the Old Woman. He claimed angrily that the last lot did not work at all. He demanded of the market crowd, "Where's the old crone? I want to give her a piece of my mind! I've been cheated!"

But she was nowhere to be found.

She turned up later and explained to any who would listen that she had to see to another matter the other day. No one took the slightest interest in her bottles for word had gotten round that her products were quite useless. But she didn't particularly care. She just sat on her low stool as usual and when the day got too hot, packed up and went away.

Now all this caught the attention of the local policeman on his beat. When she reappeared the next day he sauntered over to the woman's little makeshift stall. He could just make her out from the auras that flashed so merrily from the vials.

"Good morning, Ma'am," he offered. "And how are things today?"

"Not so good I'm afraid," came the reply. "They all seem to think it doesn't work now."

"But what is it supposed to do for you?" he inquired.

"It's just sunlight, no more and no less. But it should bring back the Light and Laughter into your eyes or the Color in your Cheeks whenever you need it," explained the Old Woman. "And even the Bounce in your Walk," she winked.

"But sunlight's freely available everywhere," he exclaimed.

"Not at night it isn't. And definitely not when you want it. You know that," she smiled.

"But apparently it didn't work for that man the other day."

"I can't answer that," said she. "It's always worked before. All he had to do was to follow the instructions: "USE IMMEDIATELY AFTER OPENING. NOT TO BE SOLD". The authorities insist upon this notice for perishable free samples: everyone knows that."

"Do you think the rich man tried to sell what he got free from you?" asked the policeman.

"I do not know. Perhaps he did. If so, he was rather greedy and tried to make a profit from something that is really everyone's right to have. I was merely trying to spread some Happiness, that's all."

"But... but if it is so potent... why, you could be a great commercial success!"

"Kind sir, I was shown how to trap sunlight in a dream I had a few nights ago. There is only one condition attached to its use: it has to be given away, otherwise the power doesn't manifest. You certainly can't hoard it. And who knows how many more years of life I may have left in me now. Perhaps it's better this way, that I give away whatever Joy I can, while I can, before I go. And unless I find someone deserving to hand it down, the secret will die with me."

"If you give it to me," cried the policeman, startling himself, "I shall honor your name and continue to give the vials away."

Almost without a thought she divulged her dream. When she died not long after, he continued to set up her tray and offered the vials as she did before. He's now getting on in years and looking to bequeath his legacy. If you care to take up his offer and wish to spread some Joy yourself, you may seek him in that ancient market square perched high upon the craggy slopes, somewhere in the remote fastnesses of the country that was once known as Tibet.

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"In the mountains there is an open market

where the things of this world can be bartered for wisdom

and bliss.

In the monastery of your heart and mind

lies a temple where all the Buddhas unite."

~ Milarepa, 11th century Tibetan Yogi.

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Not to be sold © 2007 Shaoming Wang