It had taken the villagers a long time and had cost them a fortune, but they reasoned that it had been necessary to build a wall to protect their water supply from possible theft by their neighbors in the next village. One hot summer day, a man was passing through the area, but his thirst overwhelmed him. As he staggered slowly along the wall, taking advantage of the little shade it provided, he hoped to find a way to the stream to sate his thirst.
The sound of the running water was unmistakable, and soon the poor, thirsty man was unable to take another step. He spent his last remaining strength to climb the wall to at least catch a glimpse of the running water on the other side. When he reached the top, he instinctively scooped up a handful of mud from the wall and tossed it into the stream. The sound of the splash was music to his ears, and his heart was lifted out of its desperate gloom. He was thus encouraged to continue scooping out more mud and chucking it into the water, just to hear the melodious sound of the splash. As he listened to the music of the water, a question arose in his mind: "What do you hope to achieve by throwing mud into the stream?"
"For a thirsty man, the sound of the splash is like the music that raises the dead on Judgment Day!” he replied to no one in particular. “It also reminds me of the sound of thunder, which announces the arrival of rain to a scorched garden; or the gracefulness of alms to the darvish; or even a prisoner’s hope for freedom."
Almost forgetting his thirst, the man continued to flip mud into the stream, enjoying the enchanting sound of the splash.
“Oh, and there’s something else that’s just as important!” he seemed to remember. “I’m no engineer, but I can see that with every handful that I dig, the wall gets lower, allowing me to get closer to the water! Slowly but surely, this tall sturdy wall is going down, and in no time, I’ll be only a stone’s throw away from the object of my desire, namely that stream of fresh, running water, which is my life!”
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