Once upon a time there was a village whose inhabitants were known as the weirdest creatures of the planet.
This village was going through a hard time. All of its inhabitants were affected by a virus that was not saving anyone.
-"It is called conflict and it deprives people of rational thinking and eating. They can not feed their body with anything other than strifes!" an old man was heard as he explained the virus to a youngster.
This situation shook up the hearts of men and especially that of the headman. He was thinking of ways that would enable healing of the villagers. However, the light of his mind was not turning on.
Clerics had not left a method or a ritual without trying. But still, the whole effort was thrown into the river. Disappointed, the headman was looking at some pictures from his youth.
-"I found it! I found it!" shouted the headman , seconds after he looked at an old picture of him and his childhood friend. He started running towards the desk where he wrote letters.
He remembered a good friend of his, who was now a shaman. He wrote a letter to him pouring over his concerns and asking him to visit the village.
Only after a few days, the shaman arrived in the village. The villagers were skeptical about shaman's abilities.
They looked at him as if he was an extraterrestrial being. Shaman and the headman spent a few minutes talking. Then the headman addressed the villagers saying:
- "Shaman does not carry the healing medicine with him, but he knows where it is. In order to get it, three villagers should accompany him."
- "I will!" Omar's voice was heard.
- "Me too" said Alexander.
- "Nobody is leaving without me!" added Jacob.
- "But we have a problem! We can not understand shaman's language!" added Omar.
- "Do not worry! You will meet a translator along the way" said the headman as he completed the conversation with a light smile.
The journey had begun. The rays of the sun were stretching over the skins of the passengers. Each of them was floating in the ocean of their thoughts.
Along the way, the shaman stopped and turned to a boy playing with some pebble, named Martin.
He said something to Martin and all of a sudden his lips came up to his ears. Martin ran towards the passengers and told him that he would be their translator.
-"Are you serious? A black youngster will translate the language of the shaman?" said Alexander, words of whose were cast as a bullet in Martin's heart.
- "My dear friend, we can’t blame people just because God ran out of color while he was creating us" said Omar.
- "We apologize young man! We are affected by a ruthless virus so it's very hard to hold our tongue behind our teeth" added Omar.
-"It's okay. At the end of the day, it is better to have a black skin than a black heart!" replied Martin.
The journey was continuing. But this time, some frightened voices were heard.
- Oh oh! Kosalbs and Maksers are out on the battlefield!" said Martin worried.
- "Let the people who know no God be destroyed!" added Jacob.
- "Allowing violence in a nation just because their religious views differ from yours, is called ignorance of the highest level!" Alexander replied.
- "You're right Alexander. These two nations are fighting because both sides think that their precious stone is worth more than the opposing party's stone. But they are not aware that the properties of both are of the same value!" added Omar.
The journey continued. The shaman still hadn't spoken anything. Then he approached Martin and whispered something into his ear.
- "We arrived! There, there! That man is hiding the medicine in his box!" shouted Martin as he pointed out a man walking lamely.
-"Really? All this trip to see a man walking lamely while holding a box in his hands? What nonsense!" said Omar.
This time, shaman was the one who made Omar take his words back.
-"If you judge the body, which is nothing but a carrying tool of the soul, makes us understand that you choose to have a blind heart. We do not get to decide on our physical appearance. If that were the case, we would all become a rival to nature in terms of appearance. At the end of the day, it is better to have a flawed body than a flawed personality!" he replied.
The medicine was there as a drink that was a mixture of two fluids, called "Tolerance and Respect".
As soon as they saw it, they began to drink it and saving the rest of it for the villagers.
- "But be careful! Even the medicine, if over consumed, becomes more lethal than the virus itself" said the shaman, as he took Martin’s little hand and made their way back home.