Dear Mahmoud,

Once upon a time, there were two friends, one of them was very rich and wealthy.The rich man was talking to his wife while having dinner and suddenly their doorbell rang. The husband went to open the door, it was his friend asking him for money. He gave him what he asked about, went back to dinner with tears in his eyes. His wife asked him what is it about? He answered her, blaming himself: How can my friend be in desperate need for money and I couldn't feel that need until he asked?

Dear Mahmoud,

Once upon a time, there were two friends, one of them was very rich and wealthy.The rich man was talking to his wife while having dinner and suddenly their doorbell rang. The husband went to open the door, it was his friend asking him for money. He gave him what he asked about, went back to dinner with tears in his eyes. His wife asked him what is it about? He answered her, blaming himself: How can my friend be in desperate need for money and I couldn't feel that need until he asked?

I tell another story (off the record: not from my city, culture, ...) I read it in Internet. It is, however, about "The Poor Man and the Rich Man" from an Ethiopian Folktales. I narrate it exactly with additional link to the webpage I copied from:

"The poor man just lived, and he had many lice, and he didn’t have anything. But the rich man worked very hard. He worked Saturdays and Sundays and he became very rich.

When people asked the poor man's wife why he was poor and the other man was rich, she told them her husband said, “It’s because I believe in God. I trust in God, and I spend all my time praying and becoming closer to God. Whereas the rich man spends all his time seeking material wealth.”

After some time the people wanted to ask a favour from God, so they decided to go to the poor man and ask him to pray to God because they thought he was holy and he would have greater admission into the kingdom of God.

As they were going along, they met an old man and the old man asked them where they were going and they said they were going to the poor man to pray for them.

And the old man said, “Are you sure that the poor man is really more holy and closer to God than the rich man? What is your proof? You can’t see into his heart. Let me tell you what you can do. The poor man has one dog and the rich man has one son. Go and kill them both.”

So they went and killed the dog and the son.

Then the old man called them and he said, “Go to the rich man and the poor man and tell them that you will give them both compensation for their wrongs. And if they accept compensation they would not seek revenge on whoever had killed their dog or their son."

And the rich man said he would accept the compensation and he didn’t want any revenge on the elders. He said God had given him his son and God had taken him away. However, the poor man said he didn’t want any compensation but instead he wanted revenge on the people who had killed his dog.

Therefore this shows us that the poor man was bloodthirsty and he had lots of evil thoughts in his heart. After that the Oromo elders decided that there should be no more compensation for a dog.

And the moral of this story also shows that a rich man can be holy and being poor does not always mean being good."

My conclusion about the moral of this story. We should not judge people by their appearances, or nobody can see into others heart.

http://www.ethiopianfolktales.com/en/oromia/192-the-poor-man-and-the-rich-man

Dear Dr. Omid, I have read an Indian story long ago and your question reminded me of it and If you don't mind, i am going to write it here and hope it is pertinent to your question, the name of the story is: The Praying Hands

Back in the fifteenth century, in a tiny village near Nuremberg, lived a family with eighteen children. Eighteen! In order merely to keep food on the table for this mob, the father and head of the household, a goldsmith by profession, worked almost eighteen hours a day at his trade and any other paying chore he could find in the neighborhood. Despite their seemingly hopeless condition, two of Albrecht Durer the Elder's children had a dream. They both wanted to pursue their talent for art, but they knew full well that their father would never be financially able to send either of them to Nuremberg to study at the Academy.

After many long discussions at night in their crowded bed, the two boys finally worked out a pact. They would toss a coin. The loser would go down into the nearby mines and, with his earnings, support his brother while he attended the academy. Then, when that brother who won the toss completed his studies, in four years, he would support the other brother at the academy, either with sales of his artwork or, if necessary, also by laboring in the mines.

They tossed a coin on a Sunday morning after church. Albrecht Durer won the toss and went off to Nuremberg. Albert went down into the dangerous mines and, for the next four years, financed his brother, whose work at the academy was almost an immediate sensation. Albrecht's etchings, his woodcuts, and his oils were far better than those of most of his professors, and by the time he graduated, he was beginning to earn considerable fees for his commissioned works.

When the young artist returned to his village, the Durer family held a festive dinner on their lawn to celebrate Albrecht's triumphant homecoming. After a long and memorable meal, punctuated with music and laughter, Albrecht rose from his honored position at the head of the table to drink a toast to his beloved brother for the years of sacrifice that had enabled Albrecht to fulfill his ambition. His closing words were, "And now, Albert, blessed brother of mine, now it is your turn. Now you can go to Nuremberg to pursue your dream, and I will take care of you."

All heads turned in eager expectation to the far end of the table where Albert sat, tears streaming down his pale face, shaking his lowered head from side to side while he sobbed and repeated, over and over, "No ...no ...no ...no."

Finally, Albert rose and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He glanced down the long table at the faces he loved, and then, holding his hands close to his right cheek, he said softly, "No, brother. I cannot go to Nuremberg. It is too late for me. Look ... look what four years in the mines have done to my hands! The bones in every finger have been smashed at least once, and lately I have been suffering from arthritis so badly in my right hand that I cannot even hold a glass to return your toast, much less make delicate lines on parchment or canvas with a pen or a brush. No, brother ...

for me it is too late."

More than 450 years have passed. By now, Albrecht Durer's hundreds of masterful portraits, pen and silver-point sketches, watercolors, charcoals, woodcuts, and copper engravings hang in every great museum in the world, but the odds are great that you, like most people, are familiar with only one of Albrecht Durer's works. More than merely being familiar with it, you very well may have a reproduction hanging in your home or office.

One day, to pay homage to Albert for all that he had sacrificed, Albrecht Durer painstakingly drew his brother's abused hands with palms together and thin fingers stretched skyward. He called his powerful drawing simply "Hands," but the entire world almost immediately opened their hearts to his great masterpiece and renamed his tribute of love "The Praying Hands."

The next time you see a copy of that touching creation, take a second look. Let it be your reminder, if you still need one, that no one - no one - - ever makes it alone!

Even though the story is fiction,  I hope the intent of the story is appreciated, whether true or not.

Dear Giuseppe,

Thank you. That poem and link does the job nicely. But I thought the rich live to 120 and the poor die at 60 -:) So at rest they are at the same level as you concluded. 

Best Regards,

Mahmoud

Once upon a time, there was a rich boy. His father was the king of a province in India. The boy had many friends in the province though his best friend was the one who was very poor and beg for livelihood! They used to play in the field. The followers of the king used to report various bad comments about friends of that boy like" The village boys are very dishonest" or "Those boys are thieves" or "those boys don't belong to great families and their habits are not good" etc.

After few days, the king stopped his son to play with those boys.

Days passed and the boy gradually grew up. One day he became the king of the province and took responsibility of the whole city upon his shoulders.

One day, an incident happened. Loud shouting was coming at the room of the king. It appeared to the king that it was coming from the gate of the palace. The king asked one of his followers to know the actual reason of the shouting . After some time, the follower informed the king,  "A beggar is trying to enter the palace to meet the king."

The king asked for the name of the beggar from the follower. As soon as he heard the name, he ran quickly towards the gate in bare feet........

As he looked into the face of the beggar, he hugged him and started to cry.

The gatekeepers and the followers asked the king, "Master, why are you crying?"

The king replied, "This is my best friend of my childhood!!! I have got my friend after a long span of time!!! Now I am the luckiest person of the world!!!" The observers of this scene became astonished to watch such an incident and took a lesson that: "Friendship does not obey the law of rich or poor standards!!! It is governed by universal rule of humanity!!!"

Dear Shankhadeep,

Thank you for the story. Let me add a quote here "To be rich in friends is to be poor in nothing."

Best Regards,

Mahmoud

Dear Kamal. Thank you. It is very similar moral to @Giuseppe post. Although I am not sure if the quality remains the same, if they were buried under different conditions or in different .grave yards.

Very nice explanation Kamal Eddin sir. At the end the only thing matters is your deeds. As said in the grave yard the only thing left out will be the same quality skeleton.

My story is rather like some of you.  Perhaps we had to work hard, and we learned to value learning and research.  And we learn that life is more than material things, although those things contribute to comfort in life.  It is good to place our hope in spiritual things.  Very brief  story, from mobile.

There is a nice short story, watch it:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tiP9mHWVg38

Dear Costas,

Very inspiring story. In my opinion, Contentment is the secret of the richness.

The Prophet Mohammad said “Riches does not mean, having a great amount of property, but riches is self-contentment.”

Dear All,

Thank you for sharing your stories. It is so nice to see that even with diverse culture, religion, place of birth similar moral is hidden in these stories throughout the history and world.

A Quote from Wallace D. Wattles: No matter whether you are a physician, a teacher, or a clergyman, if you can give increase of life to others and make them sensible of that fact, they will be attracted to you, and you will get rich.

P.S.: Dear Costas: YouTube is filtered here So I could not read your story. Plz narrate it here and tell us what it means.

Here is what my self and my brothers have learnt a similar story from our father when we were kids. It is a case of three individuals: a person who was rich, wealthy who somehow got poor, another person who grew up poor who lives poor and a rich person. One day the poor converted man went to a rich man's home beginning for whatever he can get. He told the rich man that he was also rich, but luck failed him. The rich man wants to know if indeed what the man says is true that he was rich.

In Ethiopian traditional cosine, the spicy stew made from chicken and egg called "doro wet" in Amharic is popular. Most people of wealth make that their regular meal of luxury. In this food the skin of the chicken will contain almost  all the species of the stew and therefore it is considered the important part of the dish. The rich man pauses for a while and come up with a question of wisdom to this person.

He said to the poor man, I am sorry gentleman for knowing your story but to know really you were indeed rich, I have one question for you. The poor man replied, yes I will be glad to answer your question sir. The rich man  said to the man, if you were a rich man, then what is the most important part of a chicken stew ? The poor man happily answered the question he knows the answer, oh sir I know that, it was the skin of the chicken that is very important. The rich man  realized from the answer that he was indeed a rich person and decided to offer what the poor man needed.

The poor friend of the poor man who was not rich in the first place wanted to get similar goodies from the rich man and asked the man what the rich man said to him. The man said, he asked me what the important part of a chicken stew is and the poor man asked him what he answered.  The man said, I answered the skin as an important part of a chicken stew. Then the man did not know any thing about such things as he grew up poor, but rushed to the rich man and asked the same thing saying he was a rich person but luck failed him and he wanted help from him.

The rich man again expressing his sympathy about his condition and he wanted to know indeed if he was a rich man. He therefore asked him what the important part of a cow is.  The poor man copied the answer of his friend and said, the important part of a cow is its skin. The rich man immediately realized, this was not a rich man in the first place as he did not know the important part of a cow. The skin of a cow is not even eatable let alone to be very important food. This poor man did not get what he wanted although he received some things.

Two things learnt: to be truthful and not to imitate others.  

This is a little Persian story "a conversion between a dad and his son" which I translated it into English.

Once upon a time a rich man with his little son travelled to a village. He just wanted to show to his son how poor the people who live there are. They stayed one day and one night in a poor villager's home. At the end of the trip and on the way back to their home, the father asked his son "What do you think about our trip?"

Son replied: It was a great trip, father.

Father asked: Did you pay any attention to their life?

Son replied: Yes, I think.

Father asked: What have you learned from this trip?

The little boy thought for a moment and then said slowly:

I noticed that we have one dog at home, but they have four dogs.

We have decorative lamps (lanterns) in our garden, and they have the stars.

Our courtyard is limited by walls, but their garden is infinite.

At the end of son's talk, the rich man was speechless (his tongue was tied!).

Son further added: Dear father, thank you for showing me how poor we really are!

My Conclusion: Children (innocents) see things differently than us!

Thank you Dear Kamal telling this to me. I did not know what dear Costas was talking about as I have already said to him I dont have YouTube.

The title of this story in the link is: مردی از دیار پارس: which means "A man from the land of Persia!" I just translated from Persian to English.

Conclusion: Life can goes on without YouTube.

http://www.persian-man.ir/story/edification/%D8%AF%D8%A7%D8%B3%D8%AA%D8%A7%D9%86%20%D9%81%D9%82%DB%8C%D8%B1%20%D9%88%20%D8%AB%D8%B1%D9%88%D8%AA%D9%85%D9%86%D8%AF/

A quote from Saadi (The famous 13th century Persian poet): 

"The beloved of the Almighty are: the rich who have the humility of the poor, and the poor who have the magnanimity of the rich",or "The best loved by God are those that are rich, yet have the humility of the poor, and those that are poor and have the magnanimity of the rich."

Note: Saadi's books are among the best-loved works of classical Iranian literature, occupies a place in the Iranian Persian not unlike the one occupied by Shakespeare in the west. Gulistan is his most popular work. Saadi’s most famous lines, which are inscribed in the Hall of Nations in the UN building in New York City, come from Gulistan, says:

All men and women are to each other

the limbs of a single body, each of us drawn

from life’s shimmering essence, God’s perfect pearl;

and when this life we share wounds one of us,

all share the hurt as if it were our own.

You, who will not feel another’s pain,

you forfeit the right to be called human.

Dear Mahmoud, I like that quote by Saadi that you posted.  Dear Francesca, I think that all people, rich and poor, can only be virtuous if they can trust in God to provide for them.  If the rich are not virtuous, they exploit others.  If the poor are not virtuous, and cannot trust the Almighty, they may resort to steal.  It doesn't always mean that poor people are always more virtuous.

Right now in my region, the story that many people are talking about and looking forward to is the AEC, Asean Economic Community, 2015.  There was already one success story, 'Malaysia’s story shows that smaller countries are in no danger of losing their sovereignty because of globalization.'  Now we are all talking about whether my country can be positively impacted by AEC, and what we must do before 2015, a present day story.

http://www.parsarticle.com/2012/08/malaysia-and-globalization.html

Dear Francesca. Thank you. This is my selection from Saadi’s Gulistan called Education or TA’ALIM VA TARBIYAT as we say in Persian 

I overheard a rich man’s son and a poor man’s son arguing as they stood near the grave of the wealthier boy’s father. “My father’s coffin,” the rich boy was saying, “has a marble gravestone decorated with a mosaic of turquoise-like gems, and his epitaph has been carved in the most elegant script. Your father’s grave, on the other hand, is nothing more than two bricks pushed together with two handfuls of mud thrown over them.”

The poor son listened quietly. Then he said, “By the time your father gets out from under that heavy stone, mine will already be in paradise.”

An ass walks lightly with a light burden.

Just so, a darvish who carries on his  back

nothing but his own poverty will  arrive

at death’s gate at ease with the life he’s lived

and with his fate; but a wealthy man, whose  life

lacked nothing, will find it hard to die,

for death means leaving luxury behind.

In the end, the prisoner  who escapes

with nothing will be happier than  a prince

whose wealth lies just beyond the bars of his cage.

Conclusion: We may be rich from outside but poor from inside.

Dear Mahmoud and friends, I just sent a paper to some of you. I share with you here a story of great collaboration on RG. Prof Ljubomir provided some great links; when 1 important abstract on RG was wrongly dated, he got me the full paper, right year and volume numbers. Profs Ed and Zaal were my stats consultants. Behrouz also provided more good links that I will use in future papers.  Others I can't mention are great encouragers. My gratitude to God and you my friends.  I hope to share more great stories of collaboration, miranda.

http://www.sainsab.org

Article Musical Mnemonics to Facilitate Learning of Protein Synthesi...

Dear Miranda,

Thank you sharing your publication with us. Remember what Albert Einstein said: Knowledge is experience, everything else is information.

Mulla Nasrudin is the starring character in a vast number of amusing tales told in Iran. Each tale depicts Nasrudin in a different situation, and through his viewpoint they humorously reveal commentary and lessons on various life themes. His tales have been passed down for many centuries. It is thought that the Mulla Nasrudin character is based on a real man who lived in the 1300s. The great allure of the Mulla Nasrudin tales is that they are funny as well as lesson filled, philosophical, and thought provoking.

Here I picked a short story from him about the Good Time to Eat:

Man: “Nasrudin, when is a good time to eat?”

Nasrudin: “Well, for the rich, anytime, and for the poor, anytime they find food.”

Dear Kamal,

Yes. For now please start reading many of them  from the link below: Mulla Nasrudin Folktales

P.S. I purposely selected a story about my theme of question: "Rich Man and Poor Man" It happened to be short!. His tales are usually short and focused.

http://www.rodneyohebsion.com/mulla-nasrudin.htm

Dear Kamal,

Here is another story from which you too should be familiar with:

The Ruined Man Who Became Rich Again Through a Dream

1001 Nights

There lived once in Baghdad a very wealthy man, who lost all his substance and became so poor, that he could only earn his living by excessive labor. One night, he lay down to sleep, dejected and sick at heart, and saw in a dream one who said to him, "Thy fortune is at Cairo; go thither and seek it."

So he set out for Cairo; but, when he arrived there, night overtook him and he lay down to sleep in a mosque. Presently, as fate would have it, a company of thieves entered the mosque and made their way thence into an adjoining house; but the people of the house, being aroused by the noise, awoke and cried out; whereupon the chief of the police came to their aid with his officers. The robbers made off; but the police entered the mosque and finding the man from Baghdad asleep there, laid hold of him and beat him with palm-rods, till he was well-nigh dead.

Then they cast him into prison, where he abode three days, after which the chief of the police sent for him and said to him, "Whence art thou?"

"From Baghdad," answered he.

"And what brought thee to Cairo?" asked the magistrate.

Quoth the Baghdadi, "I saw in a dream one who said to me, 'Thy fortune is at Cairo; go thither to it.' But when I came hither, the fortune that he promised me proved to be the beating I had of thee.

The chief of the police laughed, till he showed his jaw teeth, and said, "O man of little wit, thrice have I seen in a dream one who said to me, 'There is in Baghdad a house of such a fashion and situate so-and-so, in the garden whereof is a fountain and thereunder a great sum of money buried. Go thither and take it.' Yet I went not; but thou, of thy little wit, hast journeyed from place to place, on the faith of a dream, which was but an illusion of sleep."

Then he gave him money, saying, "This is to help thee back to thy native land."

Now the house he had described was the man's own house in Baghdad; so the latter returned thither, and digging underneath the fountain in his garden, discovered a great treasure; and [thus] God gave him abundant fortune.

http://books.google.com/books?id=cZEPAAAAYAAJ&pg=PR3#v=onepage&q&f=false

Dear Mahmoud,

Thank you for the appreciation and also for the quote.

Hope friends will not show their ego in friendship in future after reading such kind of stories.

Thanks all who read my written story in RG.

Regards,

Shankhadeep Chakraborty.

"A book is like a garden, carried in the pocket." 

Chinese Proverb