Pearls for Tears

Once upon a time in ancient India, there was a town just like ours. There were rich people who lived in large mansions and poor people who lived in ghettos. There were those who were selfish and those who cared about others.

One day a wizard appeared in the middle of the bazaar. He said he was all the way from the Himalayan mountains. He kept waving a small glass vessel, shouting, “Pearls for tears, pearls for tears! Give me your tears, and I’ll give you pearls.”

So naturally a number of people came forward and asked the wizard, “what do you mean?”

The wizard said, “cry some tears into this vessel. If they turn into pearls, I’ll let you keep them.”

A rich girl named Mallika was doing some shopping in a nearby store. She came running to the wizard and said, “let me try.”

The wizard said, “Really? You don’t look like the sort that needs to cry about anything.”

“What are you talking about?” said Mallika. “I cry all the time. I cry when my feet hurt from too much shopping. I cry when my servants don’t come quickly when I call them. And I cry every time when I think of people who are richer than me and have more things.”

“OK,” said the wizard. “Go ahead.”

Mallika thought about all those things, and she started to cry. She grabbed the glass vessel from the wizard and dropped her tears into it. “There you go.”

The wizard shook the vessel and poured it out into Mallika’s hands. All that came out was salty water.

“What happened?” said Mallika. “How come my tears didn’t turn into pearls?”

“Maybe because they’re not the right kind,” said the wizard.

Mallika got angry. “You were just lying,” she said, “This is probably just a plain old glass jar.”

She took it from the wizard and was about to toss it to the ground when someone pushed a girl in raggedy clothes in front of the crowd.

“Look, this girl is crying,” they said. “Why don’t you try her tears?”

“Who are you, little girl?” said the wizard.

“My name is Daya,” said the poor girl. “I am an orphan, and I take care of street people who have nowhere to go.”

“Why were you crying?”

“I was thinking how lonely it must be to be rich like Mallika, and I felt sad about her trying to buy happiness with money and not be able to do it.”

“Let me understand this,” said the wizard. “You are an orphan. You have no money. You live with street people. And you feel sad for this rich girl?”

“Yes,” said Daya. “You don’t have to be poor for people to feel sad about you.” She dabbed at her moist eyes.

The wizard put his glass vessel forward and let the tears from Daya’s fingers roll into it.

He shook the vessel and poured it into her hands. A bunch of pearls fell out.

Everybody was surprised but happy, except Mallika, the rich girl. “Something’s wrong,” Mallika said, “Why would her tears turn into pearls and not mine?”

The crowd agreed with her. “Yes, Mr. Wizard. Explain what happened.”

The wizard said, “those tears that you cry for yourself are just salt water. Those tears that you cry for others are indeed pearls.”

He then gave the magical glass vessel to Daya, picked up his things, and started back for the Himalayas.

(Revised July 2003)