Jewish

In a town on a remote island lived a God-fearing man whose wife was barren. One day, however, she became pregnant, and her husband, rejoicing in his heart at the glad tidings, said, "You will give birth to a son who will be the solace of our souls and the delight of our hearts. I will educate him and bring him up well, and he shall inherit my good name and increase my renown."

Thus spoke the happy potential father, but his wife replied, "You speak foolish words, for the future is unknown to you. How do you know that my childbirth will pass off well, that I shall give birth to a son and not to a daughter, that the child will remain alive, and that it will be robust and healthy? You should not have spoken such idle words and boasted, but left everything to God, who controls our destinies. It may befall you as it once befell a certain dervish."

Thus spoke the pregnant woman, and when her husband asked her what had happened to that dervish, she related to him the following tale:

There was once a dervish in the service of a king who used to give him daily and cake and a bowl of honey. The dervish ate the cake and put the honey into a jar which he always carried upon his head. Honey, however, in those days was very dear, and one day the dervish, noticing that his jar was nearly full, thought of the high price his honey would fetch in the market.

"I will sell my honey for a piece of gold and buy ten sheep, all of which will bring forth young, so that in the course of one year I shall have twenty sheep. Their number will steadily increase, and in four years I shall be the owner of four hundred sheep. I shall then buy a cow and an ox and acquire a piece of land. My cow will bring forth calves, the ox will be useful to me in plowing my land, while the cows will provide me with milk. In five years time the number of my cattle will have increased considerably, and I shall be the possessor of great wealth. I shall then build a magnificent house, acquire slaves and maidservants and marry a beautiful woman of noble descent. She will become pregnant and bear me a son, a robust and beautiful child. A lucky star will shine at the moment of his birth, and he will be happy and blessed, and bring honor to my name after my death. Should he, however, refuse to obey me, I will beat him with this stick, thus."

And so soliloquizing, the dervish raised his stick, which hit the jar and broke it, so that the honey was lost.

"I have told you the story," continued the wife of the pious man, "just to give you a lesson that it is not wise to speak of things that are uncertain. Remember the words of King Solomon, who said 'Boast not thyself, for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth.'" (Proverbs 27:1)