One day the King visited, in disguise, a woodcutter, living in a forest shack. ‘What would you do if you could not sell your wood?’ he asked. ‘Respected Sir,’ said the woodcutter, ‘I would trust in God and find something.’ The next day the king had it proclaimed that no woodcutter were to be allowed into the city, and a day or two later visited the man again, in his disguise. ‘How are you living, now that the king has taken such a strange attitude towards woodcutters?’ he asked. ‘Well, now I make leather belts and sell them to the shops. Trusting in God, I have enough to eat.’...

A Stream, from its source in the faraway mountains, at last reached the sands of a desert. Just as it had crossed every other barrier, the stream tried to cross this one, but it found that as fast as it ran into the sands, its waters disappeared. It was convinced that its destiny was to cross this dessert, yet how was this to be achieved? All at once, a voice came from sands: ‘The wind crosses the desert, Allow yourself to be absorbed by the wind, and it will carry you across in its arms.’ This was not acceptable to the stream. It feared it would lose its individuality. Once having lost it, what guarantee was there it could ever be regained?