created_at: 2019-11-17 19:08:05
Merchant, widower, went away on a business trip, while he was away bandits attached and burned his whole village. When he returned he couldn't find his house, here saw the charred body of a child near by. He cried and cried, he beat his chest and pulled his hair. The next day he cremated the body and made a little velvet pouch so he could keep his child next to him. Wherever he went he had that bag of ash with him, eating, sleeping, working he always carried it with him.
In fact, his child was kidnapped, and three months later he escaped and found his way back to the village. He knocked on the door of the new house his father had built. The poor father was crying his heart out on the floor holding the bag of ashes.
He asked who is there
It's me Daddy your son
That's not possible my son is dead, I cremated his body and I carry his ashes with me. You must be some naughty boy who is trying to fool me, go away don't disturb me. He refused to open the door and there was no way for his son to come in. The boy had to go away and the father lost his son forever.
Story from The Art of Power