Some farmers were spending a cold winter night around a fire in a hut.
They soon became involved in a heated discussion on the merits of their respective religions.
The eldest of the farmers sat quietly, just listening.
The other farmers turned to him and demanded, "Who's right, old man? Which of our religions is the right one? Which shows the path to salvation?"
"Well," said the old man thoughfully, "you know there are three ways to get from the fields over here to the mill.
You can go right over the big hill. That's shortest but it's a steep hill to climb.
You can go around the east side of the hill. That's not too far, but the road is rough.
Or you can circumvent the hill from the west side. That is the longest way, but the easiest!"
"But you know," he said, looking straight at all the faces, "When you get there, the man in charge doesn't ask how you came. He just asks, 'Man, how good is your cotton???'"
They soon became involved in a heated discussion on the merits of their respective religions.
The eldest of the farmers sat quietly, just listening.
The other farmers turned to him and demanded, "Who's right, old man? Which of our religions is the right one? Which shows the path to salvation?"
"Well," said the old man thoughfully, "you know there are three ways to get from the fields over here to the mill.
You can go right over the big hill. That's shortest but it's a steep hill to climb.
You can go around the east side of the hill. That's not too far, but the road is rough.
Or you can circumvent the hill from the west side. That is the longest way, but the easiest!"
"But you know," he said, looking straight at all the faces, "When you get there, the man in charge doesn't ask how you came. He just asks, 'Man, how good is your cotton???'"
