I spoke with my father today.
“When my son was four years old, I watched him reading a book. He didn`t just read the book, he swallowed it. He swallowed it, like one would swallow food. And then he came to me, and told me the story that was in the book. And the story was about a man whose life was filled with suffering and with pain, but that was not what moved my son.
He was happy. He was happy because he realized for the first time in his life – what a memory he had, what a mind he had!
`God,` I cried, `What have you done to me. You give me a Mind like this for a son.`
A Heart, I need for a son. A Soul, I need for a son. Compassion and Mercy, I need from a son. And above all, the strength to carry Pain. That, I need from a son.
I was forced to push him away from me.
He became very frightened and bewildered; but slowly, he began to understand that other people are alone in this world, too. Other people are suffering and other people are carrying pain.
And then in this silence we had between us, gradually his self-pride, his feeling of superiority, his indifference began to fade away.
And he learned through the wisdom and the pain of silence – that a mind without a heart is nothing.”