I often recall The Tale of the Marbles—a story that reminds me, whenever I stumble on life’s steps, that endurance and tolerance polish us into something more than we once were.
Once upon a time, nestled on a quiet hill stood a temple — peaceful, ancient, and visited by many hearts seeking blessings. To reach its sanctum, one had to climb a flight of marble stairs — rough and time-worn, bearing the footprints of thousands over the years.
But there was one step — the last one before the main entrance — that stood out. It was smooth, shiny, and gently touched by every visitor’s hand in reverence before they bowed down to the majestic statue of the deity inside.
All the marbles of the staircase often murmured among themselves.
“Why are we just stepped upon?” one said with a sigh.
“Why does everyone bow to the statue? Aren’t we made of the same stone?” another grumbled.
“Look at that last step — even it gets touched with respect! What makes us so different?”
One quiet day, the statue — carved from marble just like them — heard their whispering.
With a calm smile, it spoke:
“Yes, we are the same by origin. But not by choice. Do you remember the day the sculptor chose us?”
The marbles fell silent.
“When the sculptor began chiseling us,” the statue continued, “you couldn’t bear the pain. With just a few hammer strikes, you cracked and shattered. So, you were used to build the steps. That last piece—polished and shiny—endured a little more, so it became the threshold. But me… I bore every hit. Every hammer, every cut. I didn’t break. I allowed the sculptor to shape me. That’s why I stand here, not for being better, but for bearing more.”
Sometimes, life chisels us with hardships, pain, and challenges not to break us but to shape us. Tolerance is not a weakness. It’s silent strength. And those who endure with grace are the ones who end up being revered.
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