The Strongman and the Little Man

The Strongman and the Little Man

Once a famous strongman came to a kingdom from far away. He was broad-shouldered, mighty-armed, and so proud of his strength that he repeated everywhere, “There is no one in the world who can defeat me!” On the road he tested himself against shepherds, soldiers, woodcutters, and wrestlers. One man he lifted from the ground, another he pushed aside with ease, and a third he defeated before the poor fellow had even managed to plant his feet firmly. So, when he reached the capital, the strongman went straight to the king’s square and shouted, “Let the strongest person in your kingdom come out! I want to see whether anyone here is a match for me.” The king ordered his finest champions to be called. Sturdy soldiers came, as did hunters, blacksmiths, and shepherds from the hills. But when they saw the visitor lift a heavy bench with one hand, many lost their wish to wrestle at once. It seemed that no one would dare accept the challenge. Then a small man stepped from the crowd. He did not look at all like a hero: his arms were thin, his step was light, and his voice was calm. “I will try,” he said. The square grew quiet. The strongman looked down at him and snorted. “You? I would hardly notice you!” “Perhaps,” replied the little man. “But before we wrestle, let us test our strength. That would be fairer.” The strongman agreed. He picked up a smooth stone, gripped it in both hands, and squeezed until moisture appeared on its surface. “Did you see that?” he asked proudly. “I did,” said his opponent. Then, without being noticed, the little man drew a damp sponge from his pocket. It was about the colour of stone. He closed it in his hand and squeezed. Water streamed between his fingers. The strongman blinked. “Hm. Not bad.” Next he took another stone and hurled it to the ground with all his might. It split apart, and dust rose around it. The little man bent as though looking for a stone of his own. Instead, he scooped a handful of flour from his bag. He struck the ground sharply, and a white cloud leapt into the air. The strongman’s mouth fell open. “You did not merely break the stone—you ground it into powder!” “Almost,” said the little man, nodding very seriously. After that, the strongman was no longer so eager to wrestle. He held out his hand. “You know what? Let us not compete. Let us be friends instead. Strong people ought to stand together.” The little man shook his hand gently. The strongman was puzzled. “Why do you press so lightly? I thought you had iron fingers.” “That is exactly why I press lightly,” the traveller answered without hesitation. “I have not yet learned to measure my strength well. I would not want to hurt you by accident.” The strongman quickly drew back his hand and nodded with respect. “Wise words. Come to my house. We shall dine like brothers.” They set off together. The road crossed a field and then led down to a river. The water was swift and cold. The small traveller looked at the current and knew it would be difficult for him to cross. “My stomach has begun to ache,” he said. “Cold water is just what I do not need today. Will you carry me across on your shoulders?” “Of course,” said the strongman, and he lifted his guest onto his shoulders. In the middle of the river he stopped. “A strange thing,” he said. “I have heard that people of extraordinary strength are very heavy. But I can scarcely feel you.” “That is because we are friends now,” the little man replied quickly. “I am not resting all my weight on you. With one hand, I am holding on to the sky.” The strongman tilted back his head. “To the sky?” “Certainly.” “Let go for a moment. I want to feel your true weight.” “Well, if you insist…” The traveller pretended to release the invisible sky. In truth, he gripped the straps on the strongman’s shoulders and leaned on him with all his weight. The strongman wobbled in the water. “Oh! All right, all right! Hold on to the sky again!” “As you say,” replied the passenger politely, settling lightly once more. On the far bank, the strongman was quiet for a long time. He looked at his new friend with entirely different eyes. Soon they reached the strongman’s home. Glad to have a guest, he said, “Let us prepare dinner. We will divide the work. One of us can bring bread from the oven, and the other can fetch a drink from the cellar. Which do you choose?” The little man peered into the oven. Inside was a huge round loaf, so large that he knew he could not lift it alone. “I will go to the cellar,” he said. In the cellar stood great earthen jars, each covered by a heavy stone lid. The traveller tried to lift one lid and failed. He tried another and failed again. Then he called upstairs, “Listen! Why carry one jar at a time? I think I shall bring them all at once!” The strongman jumped. “All of them? No, no, no! You might overturn my entire store!” He rushed down to the cellar, while his guest slipped back up to the kitchen. But there was the same enormous loaf, round, hot, and heavy as a small millstone. “Well,” whispered the little man, “I must find a way.” He tugged the loaf toward the edge of the oven, pushed it, and levered it with a paddle. At last it moved, rolled forward, and landed softly over him. At that moment the strongman came back. “What are you doing under the bread?” The traveller did not blink. “I told you that my stomach hurt. I decided to warm it with a hot loaf.” The strongman nodded gravely. “Does it help?” “Much better already. You may lift it off now.” The strongman easily raised the loaf and set it on the table. At last the two friends sat down to eat. They had only just begun when the strongman sneezed so loudly that his light guest flew into the air. He caught a ceiling beam and hung beneath the roof. The strongman looked up in alarm. “Friend, what are you doing up there?” The little man inspected the beam, tapped it with one finger, and said, “I am checking whether your house is soundly built. The beam is good. But next time, warn me before you sneeze like that!” The strongman apologized so earnestly that the traveller could not help laughing. “Very well,” he said. “It is time I told you something.” And he admitted that the stone had been a sponge, the powdered stone had been flour, and that he had not, of course, been holding on to the sky. At first the strongman said nothing. Then he frowned. But suddenly he burst out laughing so hard that this time he covered his nose, lest he toss anyone else into the rafters. “So you are not stronger than I am?” “No,” said the little man. “But I never claimed that I was. I simply did not want you to look down on me because of my size.” The strongman thought for a while. “Then I lost to you before we ever wrestled.” “But we never wrestled.” “That is why I lost,” said the strongman with a smile. “You made me think.” From that day on they remained friends. The strongman learned not to judge people at first sight, and his clever friend learned that the best joke is one that leaves no one hurt. And whenever someone in that kingdom began boasting too loudly about strength, people only smiled and said, “Strength is a fine thing. But leave room for wisdom as well.”

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨