Encounters With Miracles. An Inoculation From Malice

But the kid suddenly stopped. He    surveyed the castle from the distance, then circled it around, sort of   picked up a right    line of sight. Then he   produced   a long plastic toy spade (I swear, I don't know where he got it from) and from a safe distance, meticulously and   methodically destroyed my castle, towers and all. The kid worked with all the due diligence.   When the job was nicely done he put his shovel on the shoulder, turned around and   went   away with the same deliberate pace.   But   for a very short moment it seemed to me that he gave me a look-   a very strange look, really,   just a glance. That was    a wise glance, though,   as   if he knew. Even until now I am not sure   about   that glance; maybe it was a figment of my imagination?

 

I disarmed my trap, threw away all the branches also bad stuff and   filled the pit with sand.    I felt very tired, empty but   somehow   satisfied, even   in peace. I   did not care for those teenagers anymore; they could not take away   my new skill of building castles and   all-in-all   the castle   is there for beauty and   admiration, not for malice and harm. Malice and harm" those words   came to my head for the first time that day. I felt that I grew up.

 

This is the first time I tell this   story on paper.   I think I got the message on that day: malice   never works. Malicious intent can only harm the innocent. No matter how insulted you feel, how bitter and how   enraged, you should not succumb to shallow malice, you should not plan the deliberate harm whether to individuals or nations.   You should try to see through it.

 

In my   life   I   hated a lot of people, disliked a lot of people and   loathed a lot of people. I am not a   saint and I have to admit that many times the idea of   making harm to them   got into my head, especially when   I saw them operating with impunity and getting away   with anything. But   whenever   that happened   an apparition would appear in front of me and   again I   would have been on that beach, alone   and in rage,   saved by the wise glance of the funny moving mushroom with a spade on his shoulder.   Don't know who he was, don't know where he went; may his path be blessed forever. He inoculated me from the deadly disease. Honest fight is a good thing. Malice is   never   an option.

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