Cheerfulness

In Persia, there was a woman who used to sell honey. She had a very pleasant manner, and customers thronged around her stall. And the poet who tells her story declares that even if she had sold poison, people would still have bought it from her as if it were honey. A sour-tempered man saw what a great profit she made from her sweet wares and decided to take up the same trade. So he set up a stall, but behind the rows of honey-pots his face was like vinegar. All those who came near were sullenly treated. And so everyone passed by, leaving him his wares. "Not even a fly ventured on his honey," says the poet. By evening he had still earned nothing. A woman noticed him and said to her husband, "A bitter face makes bitter honey." Did the woman who sold honey smile only to attract customers? Let us rather hope that her cheerfulness came from her good nature. We are not in this world only to buy or sell; we should be here as comrades one to another. The good woman's customers felt that she was something more than a honey-seller: she was a cheerful citizen of the world.