INFORMATION, SILENCE AND SANCTUARY
(If you want to retell any of the stories listed below, be sure to obtain permission from the copyright holder if the material is not in the public domain)

1) Ideas are cooking away - thank you to those who have already sent some suggestions . I also remembered the story from India of the woman who was verbally abused by her family so she grew in size and despondency until she found an abandoned building with only four walls and no ceiling.so each day she would go to this place and weep and yell at the walls until one after another wall fell down and in the end she felt so much lighter than before. I cannot remember where I read this - any sources that you remember? Another story that came to mind is an (I think) Apache story of how the world will end - (from Jane Yolen's Favorite Folktales) when the old woman who is weaving the rug finishes - the world will end so her black dog keeps unraveling the threads each time she tirns to stir her soup and so we hang in the balance.
Response: It's in the Pantheon collection of Folktales from India - in the first section, I think.

2) My submission for the story contest. It's a classic Indian story, The Woman Who Had a Story and a Song.

Once there was a woman who had a story and a song inside her. But she never told the story nor sang the song. She just went about her household duties while her husband worked in the rice fields. One hot afternoon she lay down to sleep, her mouth open as she breathed the heavy air. Inside, the story said to the song, "Let's escape, so long we have waited, for naught," and the two flew out her mouth. "Now what shall we do? If no one is telling or singing us, we have neither shape nor form? Let us assume shapes. I," said story, "shall become a bathrobe and hang myself on the hook near the door." So he did. "Then I shall be slippers," said the song, "and rest below you," and it was done. And the woman slept on. Her husband soon returned from the fields, and saw the robe and slippers next to the door. "What have we here? A stranger here, who hung his robe and left his slippers? What is my wife up to in the bedroom," and he rushed to find her sleeping, along. "Up, up!" he shouted, "where is the stranger with the robe!" "Wha' wha'?" she asked sleepily, of course with no idea of why he was accusing her of infidelity. "No one is here! I was asleep!' Of course that answer did not satisfy the man, who proceeded to berate her, and shout, and look everywhere for the impostor, to no avail, until darkness descended. Now, in India, when a couple fights, the man goes to spend the night in the temple of Hunaman, the monkey king, and the man took himself hither, and lay down to sleep. By the way, did you ever think about what happens to the lights when you put them out? Where do they go? To the temple of the monkey king, to spend the night chatting and gossiping as their masters sleep. So the farmer heard the lights above him, and one asked, "where is the light from the end of the lane? He's late." The farmer knew it was his light. Soon there was a tinkling and a puffing and in rushed the missing light. "Fellows, you'll never believe why I'm late! My master had a bitter fight with the mistress because he saw a robe and slippers hanging where none had been, and suspected her of infidelity. They argued late into the night, and so I am late too. But that's was not true." And he told how Story and Song transformed themselves. Well! The farmer felt sorry for accusing his wife, and - he was curious! What was the story? What was the song? At daybreak he returned home, gently wakened his wife and apologized, then asked: "Please tell me the story. Please sing me the song."

That's all. No more story. No more song! SO IF YOU HAVE A STORY TELL IT. IF YOU HAVE A SONG SING IT.

3) Greg posted this story looking for the author/source. Never did hear if he found one.
An Oldtimer and current Lurker
Yer Western Pal,
Mark

The American businessman was at the pier of a Mexican coastal village when a small fishing boat, piloted by just one man, docked. Inside the boat were several large yellowfin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them. The Mexican replied, "Only a little while."

The American then asked why didn't he stay out longer and catch more fish. The Mexican said he had enough to support his family's immediate needs. The American then asked, "But what do you do with the rest of your time?" The Mexican fisherman said, "I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siesta with my wife Maria, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life, senor."

The American said, "I could help you. I have an MBA from Harvard. You should spend more time fishing and buy a bigger boat with what you make from your catch. With the proceeds from the bigger boat you could buy several boats. You would have a fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to a middleman you would sell directly to the processor and eventually open your own cannery. You would control the product, processing and distribution.

"You would need to leave this small fishing village and move to Mexico City, then Los Angeles and eventually New York, where you will run your expanding enterprise."

The Mexican fisherman asked, "But senor, how long will this all take?"

To which the American replied, "15-20 years."

"But what then, senor?"

The American laughed and said, "That's the best part. When the time is right you would announce an IPO and sell your company stock to the public and become very rich. You would make millions."

"Millions, senor? Then what?"

The American said, "Then you would retire. Move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siesta with your wife, then, in the evenings, stroll to the village, where you would sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos."

(Updated 11/15/04)