The Wanderings of the preacher Boutros...To Get What One Deserves

Preacher Boutros was sitting in the market-place one afternoon when he saw a fight break out between three merchants. Going over to investigate, he asked:
"Are you not ashamed to skirmish in the dust in this way?"

The three men stopped fighting, straightened thier clothes and explained:
"We pooled our money and bought eighteen cattle. One of us paid half the price, one of us a third, and the last paid a ninth of the total price. Now that we come to divide the animals, we find that we cannot decide how many we each own. And we do not want to cut up the animals."

"I could decide this for you," replied the Preacher, "but each of you will have to give me a reward."

"You won't start cutting our cattle?", said the tense men,

"That will not be necessary." reassured the Preacher.

"Very well," agreed the merchants, "you may have a reward if you can solve the problem."

Lining the men and the cattle up in front of him, Boutros began.

"You," he said to the first man, "paid half the price: nine of the cattle are yours. "You,", he told the second man, "paid a third of the amount: take six cattle. You," he said to the third man, "are owed two cattle for your contribution of the one-ninth of the sum. Which leaves one goat for me."

And taking his reward he walked off.

The Musings of the preacher Boutros...

Different Paths

"You are a great mystic" said one of Boutros' pupils. "Surely you will know why men take different paths through life instead of all following the one true path."

"Simple," replied his teacher. "If everyone followed the same path, we would all end up in the same place, the balance of the world would be tipped, and we would all be thrown into the ocean."


Poor Conditions

When the Bishop visited P. Boutros' new house, he looked at the cramped dwelling and remarked:
"You live in a very poor condition, it is true, but do not despair. The meek are rewarded in death, and you will go to a place where you will live in splendour such as you have not known in this world."

"That is all very well", replied Boutros, "but what am I to do with a luxurious grave?"


The Repentant Thief

While preacher Boutros was attending Mass at the city cathedral, a thief made off with his saddle-bags. When he complained to the Bishop, he was told:
"A true believer would have had a few holy sayings from the Bible in his bag, and the thief, seeing these, would have immediately repented."

"How strange it is that he did not" said the irate Preacher, "for I had the whole Bible in my bag!"


Sent by God

Preacher Boutros was sitting by the sea when a wave washed over him and swept away his shoes.

"That wave was sent by God" said the bystander.

"God, God!" ranted Boutros seething with anger, "I would take Him to court for the loss of my shoes, but the judge would probably find in His favour."


Sinner for Dinner

Preacher Boutros was visiting an old friend during the fasting days of Lent. At dinner, his host's wife set a roast goose on the table. She and her husband then served themselves large portions and began to eat greedily. Realising that he was not about to be offered a plate, Boutros ripped a leg from the roast and took an enourmous bite.

"Preacher," apologised his host, "we assumed that as a believer you would be fasting."

"For food which tickles the palate like this, I am willing to descend to your level temporarily."

The Wanderings of the preacher Boutros...At the Princely Table

Preacher Boutros briefly held the position of the Chief Astronomer at the court of Prince Vlad Tepes. One evening at the princely table Boutros was asked to carve the pheasant. Obligingly he rose and began to serve the other diners. The head he offered to the Prince saying: "You are our leader and the head of your family."

The wings he gave to the Court treasuer: "Your embezzlement will be discovered and you will soon take flight."

The feet he gave to the commander of the army with the words "You will soon march into battle."

The neck he gave to the Chief Minister saying: "Your own neck will one day be broken by the hangman's noose."

The rest of the bird he put on his own plate saying: "What remains is mine because I have carved so well."

The Wanderings of preacher Boutros...How Only Some Things Change...

P. Boutros and a rich nobleman were riding through the dizzying heights and valleys of Carpathia.

"Is it not so that God rewards riches with riches?" said the nobleman to the preacher. "Look at my ravishing riding boots made with the best leather money can buy, and your holed and tattered clogs. Look at my jewelled crown, and the rags you wear wrapped around your head. Look at my silk coat with handcrafted buttons and gold thread, and the patched sack that hangs from your bony shoulders. Here we two are: you with a few measly possessions in your moth-eaten saddlebags, I with spices that will make princes and kings weep with pleasure. And yet, we can ride together through this place, I mounted on an Andalucian stallion, you scrabbling on the path on a silly little donkey..."

At that moment the nobleman's musings were interrupted by the arrival of the of a band of brigands, who yanked him from the saddle, kicked and beat him to the ground and rode off with his cargo and mount.

"How extraordinary it is" mused Boutros, "that my circumstances have not seemed to change, but yours are dramatically altered in the space of a few minutes."

Wanderings of the preacher Boutros...In Credit to God

Hungry, P. Boutros went to the town square to sell his few remaining possessions. An unscrupulous merchant took the collection of household items and said:
"Come back for your money tomorrow, as I have none on me at the moment."
He refused to pay despite P. Boutros's feeble pleas. So staggering home past the market stalls, the preacher came across a baker's shop. With his last ounce of strength, he grabbed three pies and made off with them. Sitting in an alleyway he quickly ate the pastries.
"Oh merciful Lord", he cried as he finished the last pie and licked his fingers, "I am not a thief. I have simply borrowed these pies from the baker. as this is the case, please see that the baker's money is taken out of that owed to me by the merchant who borrowed my pots and pans. I dislike being in debt to any man!"

The Wanderings of the Preacher Boutros (Peter)

Once the Preacher Boutros visited the provincial capital and was invited by the townsfolk to deliver a sermon. When he managed to gather himself upon the pulpit and a large crowd had gathered, he asked "Do you know what I am going to say?"
The audience under some confusion replied in unison "NO", so he announced with great humility " I have no desire to speak to people who don't even know what I will be talking about" he turned clambered down and left.
The people felt embarrassed, and knowing how they might be shunned by the rest of Christendom invited Preacher Boutros back the following day. He again ascended the pulpit with great difficulty and asked the same question as he had done the previous day. The people replied in harmonious unison "YES". Preacher Boutros turned to them and said "Well, since you already know what I will say I see no reason why I should take any more of your time" saying this he turned and left.
Now the people were really perplexed. They decided to try one more time and invited the Preacher to speak to the faithful the following week, (see what happens in his tales during the week - but now back to our present story). A huge congregation had assembled at the city's main Cathedral and eagerly awaited the infamous mystical Preacher. Preacher Boutros ascended onto the great pulpit and asked the same question he had asked the first day he came: "Do you know what I am going to say?". Now the people were prepared so half of them answered "YES" while the other half responded with "NO". So Boutros said "The half who know what I am going to say, tell it to the other half" and he left!

To read more stories from the wandering preacher keep watch...

My Travels...

It was in the Autumn that I resumed my wanderings over the hills that divide greater Samarkand from the rest of the world that I stumbled upon a teahouse. The teahouse was like any other notable teahouses known to that part of the world, the kind that follows a Caravanserai and appears just when the ragged traveller is either famished or dying of thirst. It so appeared as I was in the throes of death, apparitions appearing before me and graciously welcoming me to the netherworld, that I was presented with a hot cup of green tea by a bony hand.
The hand belonged to a Mr. Zelimkhan, a man of small stature with a generously proportioned wife (she was hiding behind him at this point - quite a funny sight!). He didn't say much but seemed to know exactly what I needed when I needed them. A sheep broth and coarse bread was presented before me with a pot of tea and a bottle of mineral water, I later found out the bottle had been replenished at some point with the local tap. Mrs. Zelimkhan was nice, she never spoke but giggled all the time she was waiting on me.
I had arrived at the teahouse just after dark I was the only one there. It was a huge tent made on sturdy wooden foundations and covered with thick yak coat to keep out the wind and to keep it warm, the wind was kept abay but my feet were freezing nonetheless. It was lighted with kerosene lanterns that were dotted above our heads, it was comforting.
Suddenly a great clamour was heard as burly flat-faced and heavily tanned Uzbeks started filing in through the opening, I was startled and the comfort left me as the feeling of intimidation slowly crept into my mind. It was then that Mr. Zelimkhan spoke for the first time, he said "Indeed all who enter our establishment are our guests, but you sir you are a greater guest, you are all of our guest so feel at ease as we welcome you". I was absolutely astonished he had spoken in english and excellent english at that...