The old man sighed. In his generation, nothing more was said.
In the next generation, one said, "the old man sighed in pain."
In the third generation, one said, "the old man sighed in pain because of the sorrow of death."
One said, "Death comes into the world through the folly of man. The old man thought on this and sighed."
Later, one said, "There is so much pain in the world. The old man carved out a space in which compassion could grow. His sigh carved out that space."
Yet another said, "In order to rid the world of pain, much work must be done. This work entails much exertion. Having done some of the work, one must express his exhaustion. This is why the old man sighed, to teach that we, likewise, must sigh."
And so it was that, generation after generation, men reflected on the old man's sigh. Their reflections grew into a many branched tree with bounteous leaves, ripe fruit, and copious shade for a weary traveler.
-- המשיג H. Massig
