Lost

Shared by Divya




A woman in a hot air balloon realized she was lost. 
She reduced altitude and spotted a man below. She descended a bit more and shouted, "Excuse me Sir, can you help me? I promised a friend, I would meet him an hour ago but I don't know where I am."
The man below replied, "You're in a hot air balloon hovering approximately 30 feet above the ground. You're between 40 and 41 degrees north latitude and between 59 and 60 degrees west longitude."
''You must be an engineer," said the lady balloonist. "I am", replied the man. 'How did you know?'
''Well", answered the lady in the balloon, "everything you told me is technically correct, but I have no idea what to make of your information, and the fact is I'm still lost. Frankly, you've not been much help to me at all. If anything, you've delayed my trip even more."
The engineer below responded, "You must be in Top Management." ''I am", replied the lady balloonist, "but, how did you know?''
"Well," said the Engineer, "You don't know where you are, or where you're going. You made a promise, which you've no idea how to keep, and you expect people beneath you, to solve your problems."   

The Amazing Miracles

By - Anil Chandra

 

          The priest woke early as was his wont, and began his prayers, his devotions, and his work for his diocese. He was its spiritual light and was held in high esteem by his religious colleagues and the people. Before his door, there grew a small tree planted by his own hands; he always watered it before sunrise, contemplating the sun as it burst forth from the horizon to shed its rays on its green leaves.

          As the priest finished watering the tree that morning and was about to return inside, he found himself faced by a crowed of sad and worried-looking people, one of whom plucked up the courage to address him in beseeching tones:

          "Father! Save us! No one but you can save us! My wife is on her death bed and she is asking for your blessing before she breathes her last."

"Where is she?"

          "In a village nearby. The mounts are ready," replied the man, pointing to two saddled ponies standing there waiting for them.

          "I am willing to go, my sons," said the priest, "Wait a while so that I may arrange my affairs and tell my breathren and then return to you."

          "There's no time!" they all said as one voice. 'The woman is dying. We may well reach her too late. Come with us right away if you would be a true benefactor to us and a merciful saviour to the dying woman. It is not far and we shall be there and back at your house before sunset."

          "Well, then, let us go at once!" the priest agreed with enthusiastic fervour. He went up to the two ponies followed by the crowd. Mounting him on one of them while the husband of the dying woman mounted the other, they raced off.

          For hours on end they pounded the ground, passing from one country road to another, with the priest frequently asking, "when would the village of the unfortunate woman come" and the men goading on the pony saying, "we're almost there!" It wasn't till noon that the village came into sight. They entered it to the accompaniment of barking dogs and the welcome of its inhabit¬ants, and they all made their way to the woman's hut. They led the priest through the front verandah to a large room where he found a woman stretched out on a bed, her eyes staring up at the ceiling. He called to her, but no reply came from her, for she was at death's door. So he began to call down blessings upon her, and scarcely had he finished when she heaved a great sigh and fell into a deep fit of sobbing, so that the priest thought she was about to give up the ghost.

          Instead her eyelies fluttered open, her gaze cleared and she turned and murmured, "Where am I?"

          "You are in your house," answered the astonished priest. "Get me a drink of water."

          "Bring the pitcher!" shouted her relatives around her. "Bring the water jar!"

          They raced off and brought back a jug of water from which the woman took a long drink. Then she belched heartily and said, "Isn't there any food? I'm hungry!"

          Everyone in the house set about bringing her food. Under the astonished gaze of those around her, the woman began devouring the food; then she got up from her bed and proceeded to walk about the house completely fit and well again. At this the people prostrated themselves before the priest, covering his hands and feet in kisses and shouting, "O Saint of God! Your blessing has alighted on the house and brought the dead woman back to life! What can we possibly give you as a token of the thanks we owe you, as an acknowledgment of our gratitude?"

          "I have done nothing that deserves reward or thanks," replied the priest, still bewildered by the incident. "It is God's power that has done it."

          "Call it what you will," said the master of the house. "It is at all events a miracle which God wished to be accomplished through your hands, O Saint of God. You have alighted at our lowly abode, and this brings both great honour and good fortune to us. You must let us undertake the obligations of hospitality in such manner as our circumstances allow."

          He ordered a quiet room to be made ready for his guest and there he lodged him. Whenever the priest asked leave to depart, the master of the house swore by all that was most holy to him that he would not allow his auspicious guest to go before three days were up—the very least hospitality which should be accorded to someone who had saved his wife's life. During this time he showed him much attention and honour. When the period of hospitality came to an end he saddled a mount and loaded it up with presents of home-made sweet meats, lentils, and vegetables; in addition he pressed rupees twenty for the church funds in the priest's hand. Hardly had he escorted him to the door and helped him on to the pony than a man appeared, puffing and out of breath, who threw himself down beside the priest.

          "Father," he pleaded, "the story of your miracle has reached all the villages around. I have an uncle who is like a father to me and who is at death's door. He is hoping to have your blessing, so let not his soul depart from him before his hope is fulfilled!"

          "But, my son, I am all ready to return home," the priest replied uncertainly.

          "This is something that won't take any time. I shall not let you go till you've been with me to see my uncle."

          "And where is this uncle of yours?" asked the priest.

          "Very near here—a few minutes' distance."

          The priest saw nothing for it but to comply. They journeyed for an hour before they reached the next village. There he saw a house like the first one with a dying man on a bed, his family around him veering between hope and despair. No sooner had the priest approached and called down his blessing on the patient than the miracle occurred: the dying man rose to his feet calling for food and water. The people, astounded at what had occurred, swore by everything most dear that they must discharge the duties of hospitality towards this holy man—a stay of three full days.

          The period of hospitality passed with the priest enjoying every honour and attention. Then, as they were  escorting him out of the village loaded down with gifts, a man from a third village came along and asked him to come and visit it, even if only for a little while, and give it the blessing of one whose fame had spread throughout all the district.

          The priest was quite unable to escape from the man, who led the pony off by its bit and brought the priest to a house in his village. There they found a young man who was a cripple; hardly had the priest touched him than he was up and about on his two feet, among the cheers and jubiliation of young and old. All the people swore that the duties of hospitality must be accorded to the miracle-maker, which they duly did in fine  style; three nights no less, just as the others had done. When this time was up they went to their guest and added yet more presents to those he already had, until his donkey was almost collapsing under them. They also presented him with a more generous gift of money than he had received in the former villages so that he had by now collected close to rupees three hundred. He put them in a purse which he hid under his clothes. He then mounted the pony and asked his hosts to act as an escort for him to his village, so they all set off with him, walking behind his pony.

          "Our hearts shall be your protection, our lives your ransom," they said. "We shall not leave you till we have handed you over to your own people, you are as precious to us as gold."

          "I am causing you some inconvenience," said the priest. "The way is not safe and, as you know, criminal  gangs are rife in the region."

          "Truly," they replied, "hereabouts they kidnap men in broad daylight."

          "Even the government is powerless to remove this widespread evil," said the priest. "I was told that gangs of kidnappers waylay buses in the countryside, run their eyes over the passengers, and carry off with them anyone at all prosperous-looking, so that they can afterwards demand a large ransom from his relatives. Sometimes it happens with security men actually in the buses. I heard that once two policemen were among the passengers on one of these buses when it was stopped by the gang; when the selected passenger appealed for help to the two policemen they were so scared of the robbers that all they said to the kidnapped man was, "Go away and let's get the bus going."

          The people laughed and said to the priest, "Do not be afraid! So long as you are with us, you will dismount only when you arrive safely back in your village."

          "I know how gallant you are! You have overwhelmed me with honour and generosity!"

          "Don't say such a thing—you are very precious to us!" They went on walking behind the priest, extolling his virtues and describing in detail his miracles. He listened to their words, and thought about all that had occurred. Finally, he exclaimed, "Truly, it is remarkable the things that have happened to me in these last few days! Is it possible that these miracles are due solely to my blessing?"

          "And do you doubt it?"

          "I am not a prophet that I should accomplish all that in nine days. Rather it is you who have made me do these miracles!"

          "We?" they all said in one voice. "What do you mean?"

          "Yes, you are the prime source."

          "Who told you this?" they murmured, exchanging glances.

          "It is your Faith," continued the priest with conviction. "Faith has made you achieve all this. You do not know the power that lies in the soul of the believer. Faith is a power, my sons! Faith is a power! Miracles are buried deep within your hearts, like water inside rock, and only faith can cause them to burst forth!" He continued talking in this vein while the people behind him shook their heads. He became more and more impassioned and did not notice that they had begun to slink off, one after the other. It was only when he reached the boundaries of his village that he came back to earth, turned round to thank his escort, and was rendered speechless with astonishment at finding himself alone.

          His surprise did not last long, for he immediately found his family, his brother priests and superiors rushing towards him, hugging him and kissing his hand, as tears of joy and emotion flowed down their cheeks. One of them embraced him, saying, "You have returned safely to us at last! They kept their promise. Let them have the money so long as they have given you back, father! To us, father, you are more priceless than any money!"

          The priest, catching the word 'money', exclaimed, "What money?"

          "The money we paid to the gang."

          "What gang?"

          "The one that kidnapped you. At first they wouldn't be satisfied with less than, ten thousand rupees, saying that you were worth your weight in gold. We pleaded with them to take half and eventually they accepted, and so we paid them a ransom of five thousand rupees from the church funds."

          "Five thousand?" shouted the priest. "You paid that for me!— they told you I'd been kidnapped?"

          "Yes, three days after you disappeared some people came to us and said that a gang kidnapped you one morning as you were watering the tree by your door. They swore you were doomed unless your ransom was paid to them—if we paid you'd be handed over safe and sound."

          The priest considered these words, recalling to himself all that had occurred.

          "Indeed, that explains it", he said, as though talking to himself. "Those dead people, the sick, and the cripples who jumped up at my blessing! What mastery!"

          His relatives again came forward, examining his/ body and clothes as they said joyfully, "Nothing is of any consequence, father, except your safety. We hope they didn't treat you badly during your captivity. What did they do to you?"

          In bewilderment he answered: 'They made me work miracles— miracles that were manufactured."