In a large village, a landowner owned a magnificent palace. Right next to the palace stood a dilapidated hut. This hut belonged to a poor, orphaned, elderly widow. She had lived there for years. She had been married in the same hut, her husband had fallen ill and died there, and her only son had breathed his last there. Later, her daughter-in-law also left her, leaving behind a five-year-old daughter. Now, that granddaughter was the old woman's sole support.
The hut may have been adobe, but for the widow, it was not just a place to live, but the foundation of her memories, her joys and sorrows, and her entire life. Every wall held memories of her loved ones.
The landowner desired to expand the courtyard of his palace. The hut began to bother him. He called the widow several times, sometimes trying to reason with her, sometimes threatening her, sometimes trying to lure her into moving. But each time, the widow would say, with folded hands, "Your Majesty, leaving this hut is like death for me. I cannot leave here alive."
When all the landlord's efforts failed, he resorted to his power. Using his wealth, he hired clever lawyers and secured the court's approval of the hut. The widow was forced to leave her hut. She took her granddaughter and began seeking shelter here and there.
With the loss of the hut, it seemed as if her granddaughter's life had dried up. She stopped eating and drinking. Day and night, she would repeat the same thing:"Grandma, come to your home. I will eat there."
One day, the widow made up her mind. She approached the hut with a basket in her hand. Coincidentally, the landlord was inspecting the place at that very moment. As soon as he saw her, he ordered his servants, "Remove this woman from here."
The widow cried, "Your Majesty, this hut is yours now. I haven't come to take it. I just have one request."
Upon receiving permission, she narrated her plight and said, "If I build a stove with the mud from this hut, perhaps my granddaughter will be able to eat."
The landlord reluctantly granted permission.
The widow went inside the hut. As soon as she stepped inside, old memories flooded her mind. Tears welled up, but she controlled herself and came out with a basket full of mud. Then, with folded hands, she said, "Your Majesty, please touch this basket so I can place it on my head."
The landlord was enraged, but also moved with pity. He reached out to pick up the basket himself. As soon as he touched it, he was astonished. The basket didn't move even an inch. He used all his strength, but failed.
Ashamed, he said, "I can't lift this basket."
The widow said calmly, "Your Majesty, if you can't lift a single basket of soil, how will you carry the burden of thousands of baskets of soil in this hut for a lifetime? The burden of injustice is very heavy."
These words touched the landlord's heart. His pride was shattered. He admitted his mistake, apologized to the widow, and returned the hut to her.
That day, the landlord learned that true power lies not in wealth, but in compassion and justice.
Read more : - The Shepherd's Secret
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