This is an old story passed down in our lineage. We added a few embellishments for fun, but the heart of it reveals something profound: how and why we suffer.
In the majestic and unspoiled countryside, there was a small lodge nestled in the woodland. Here was the home of a wise teacher of philosophy and her ten dedicated students. Each of them having their own unique gifts, they lived harmoniously together as a family. Though hearsay hardly reached the solitude of the forest, one of the boys caught word of a town festival. The celebration was to take place the next day; they’d have to leave as soon as possible to make it. Convincing the rest of his peers, the friends decided to embark on an excursion. They were an honest and good-hearted group, requesting the blessings of their teacher. Reluctantly, she agreed and bid them farewell.
Attending the festival meant traversing the stark and raw terrain of the country. As the friends set off, they came to meet several obstacles. One such obstacle was a swift flowing river. There was no way around it. The boy leader said, “It’s not too deep. If we hold hands, we should be able to make it.”
Plunging in, one step at a time, the bunch tried to cross. But, the inevitable happened. The agility of the current separated them. Clambering up the banks onto the other side, one of the girls shouted, “Give me your hand! I’ll pull you up!”
Feeling responsible for the group, the leader decided to take a head count. “Okay, did we all make it? Let me count,” he said, gasping for breath. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine . . . where’s the tenth?”
He counted again. Still, the tenth friend was missing. This was a calamity! The excitement of attending a festival was beyond spoiled. The group started searching everywhere for their missing friend.
Meanwhile, on the banks of the river there lived an old shepherd. He’d been watching the whole drama play out—minding his own business while tending his sheep. Eventually, the boy leader, in his desperation, approached the man for help. Grief stricken, he recounted the whole series of events.
“Sir, will you please help us find our friend?” he said.
The shepherd smiled and spoke softly, “Don’t worry, the tenth friend is here. I can help you.”
“How’s that possible? We counted so many times!”
“Line up. You’ll see.”
Though doubtful, the boy had all his friends line up again. They deeply listened to the old man.
“Let’s go ahead and start the count.”
“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine—”
“See, there’s only nine!” the boy shouted.
Then, taking the boy’s hand, the shepherd turned it around to point at his own chest. “You are the tenth friend. You are what you seek.”
The boy fell deeply silent. His friends were in awe. This whole time, he’d forgotten to count himself in. In wonder, they all began to count themselves, including themselves. The ten friends were all here and always had been.