In which this story is good to end the old year, and begin the new

The Magical Garden of the Poor (Kazakhstan)

Once there were two friends who lived near to each other.  

One had good fertile land, and he was a farmer.  The other had stony ground, and he was a shepherd.  

These two were great friends, and spent many happy times sharing food and drink and stories and songs together. 

But then came a terrible sickness of the sheep, and all the herder’s sheep died.  

He had no sheep, no way to make a living, and so he went to his friend the farmer to say goodbye. 

“I will go to the city, where I have some cousins, and perhaps I will find work there,” said the shepherd. 

But the farmer said, “You should not go, for you are my friend.  Here, I will give you half of my fertile land and you can farm it for yourself.” 

The herder protested, but the farmer insisted.  

And so they both farmed the land and spent many happy times sharing food and drink and stories and songs together. 

One day when the shepherd was plowing the land, his plow hit something hard and heavy.  He dug down into the soil and discovered a pot of gold coins!

He went to his friend the farmer and said, “My friend, you are rich!  I found this treasure while plowing your land!”

But the farmer said, “No, my friend:  YOU are rich, for the treasure was on the land I gave to you.” 

“I cannot accept this!”  said the shepherd.

“I will not take it from you!” said the farmer.  And they could not reach an agreement. 

Finally, they decided to go see the wise man in the village and ask for advice.  

The wise man was teaching students that day, so he turned the question to his students:  what should be done with the treasure?

The first student said that, since the treasure was found in the ground, it should be returned to the ground, buried and forgotten.

The second student said that, since the friends had come to the wise man for advice, they should give the treasure to the wise man.

The third student said that, since the Great Khan was ruler over them all, they should give the treasure to the Khan. 

Finally, the fourth student said, “I think the treasure should be used to build a garden.  A treasure like this could build a sanctuary garden for the poor, where they could rest in the shade and have beautiful food to eat.” 

And this was an answer that the farmer and the shepherd and the wise man agreed was best.   

The wise man owned a field outside of the village, and he said that the garden could be built there. 

The fourth student took the money and travelled to the city to buy the seeds and plants they would need for the garden.  

When he got to the gates of the city, he could see many shops where people sold beautiful seeds and plants.  

He was just about to enter, when a camel driver passed him on the road.  

On the back of the camel were hundreds of live birds, tied by their feet and covered with dirt and dust. 

“Stop!” cried the student to the camel driver.  “Where are you taking these birds?”

“I am taking them to the Khan, who will give me a lot of money for them.  The Khan will decorate his table with the feathers, and feed the meat to his guests.” 

But the student could not stand by.  “Let me buy them instead,” he said. 

“You?  You do not have as much money as the Khan to buy these birds!” 

“But I do,” said the student, and he showed the camel driver the treasure he carried. 

The camel driver could tell that even the Khan wouldn’t pay so much for these birds, so he agreed to sell them to the student, who took each bird carefully from the back of the camel, and laid it gently down beside the road, untying the feet, and massaging them, cleaning the dust from their feathers and giving them water to drink. 

Some birds recovered swiftly, some were stunned and dizzy from their ordeal, but eventually all the birds flew away, leaving the student there alone with the knowledge that he had done a good thing. 

But.  The garden!   

He had used all the money for the garden to save the birds!   

Now there would not be a garden for the poor. 

He was overcome with sadness, and started to walk back to his own village, empty-handed.  

As he approached the field that should have become the great garden, he sat on a rock and began to weep in earnest.  

But just then, a little bird fluttered up to him and said,

“Do not worry.  You saved all of us, and we will help you.”  

It looked up into the sky and sang a whistling song, and birds came from all over down onto the field.  

The small birds pecked at the ground to till up the soil.  

The bigger birds flew to many places around the world and brought back in their beaks so many beautiful seeds, which they planted in the ground.  

Other birds flew to lakes and ponds, and dove into them, bringing back water on their wings and tipping it onto the ground to water the plants.

And then, an astonishing thing happened. 

The student watched as all the seeds in the garden began to grow right in front of his eyes.  

There were apple trees and lemon trees, there were vines and flowers, there were berries and vegetables. 

A stream began to flow through, and there were ponds, and shade and places for people to rest. 

The rich people noticed the garden first. 

They mounted their fine horses and rode quickly to the garden.   

But when they arrived, a great Gate appeared in front of the garden with seven locks.  

CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK that gate locked up tight and would not let the rich people enter.   

The rich people tried to pick apples and lemons from over the gates, but the trees would move their branches so none could be reached. 

And the rich people went away. 

Then the poor came to the garden.   

They came much later for they had no fine horses to ride.  

They walked up to the entrance of that magic garden, and the great Gate with the seven locks unlocked itself CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK and opened wide to welcome the poor people into the garden. 

There, they picked the fruit, for the trees bent down so they could reach.  

They ate berries and vegetables and washed in the streams and rested in the shade.  

As night fell, the birds sang sweet songs, and then the gate closed and the locks locked, and they all had a safe place to stay. 

And that is the story of the Magical Garden of the Poor.   

They tell me that it still exists, somewhere, but we have forgotten the location.  

That’s why it’s important now for everyone to help the poor, and to build more gardens.