There are many important messages that one can receive from Zire Buzette story. I list a few of them here; I leave the explanations for you. I am sure if you, as a good reader, pay attention to the story details and symbols, you will get more of these messages.
1- Treat people the way you want to be treated.
2- Do not think that you will live for ever, and act like you think you will die tomorrow.
3- Love people, they will love you.
4- Sometimes being too clever is problem.
5- Do not think that because you are rich, you know everything.
6- Well digger is in well.
7- Be honest.
8- Work hard, the way that you live for ever.
and many more.
Many of the above characteristics can be find in many of us, but the lucky person is the one who has more and more. Sometimes we just need to see who we are and what we have, by a deep thought about ourselves, we can find the weaknesses and change them to strong points.
The story also has some symbols: Symbol of honesty, symbol of sympathy, symbol of desires, and many others.
I suggest to read the story at least two times. Not when you are at your work, not when you are not relaxed. A weekend evening, while you are relaxed and got a shower and have a cup of tea available, would be a perfect time to read it. I suggest somewhere out of home, right before sun sits. Then think about the story and how you can apply in your life while the sun is sitting.
I wish you like the story. I like it a lot. I will pray for the writer of the story. May God bless them.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Zire Buzette (Part II)
In connection with last week's post:
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Zire's land and his little house was surrounded by three brothers properties, Brothers Blairaux. They were said to be the richest people in the village. One was mayor, the other one farmer and the last one was treasurer or a charity organization. All three were strong fellows, with powerful limbs. They looked as they were made to live for hundred years. They owned about a hundred acres of land, and many houses in the village. Yet, they were buying a house from here, a piece of land from there and tried to increase their amount of lands properties. In order to connect all their lands and make the estate, they had to buy Zire's house and land. "He won't last long" brothers said to themselves. "We shall have it for nothing after his death".
But their wish finally become stronger than their reason; they wanted to have the estate at once and as soon as possible. For, after his death his heirs might make problem in dealing with them. They used a lot of tricks, but after all, they started negotiations with Zire. Their plans were of no use; he would not sell his land and house. Zire shook his head with his pale face while coughing said: You can ask me anything else, sirs: but do not ask me to leave the house which i owned for many years and even before me my grandfathers lived here. You know that I have no long to live, so be patient, I will not go anywhere else for the short time that I have for living. I will die in the house that I was born and where all my parents died.
Brothers had no strong reason to say to Zire, he looked right. But still brothers wanted the land and his house. They started to frighten him with threats. They stopped dealing with him, and the mayor engaged another musician for the village parties. Poor Zire felt hurt by this blow. But, all the villagers took his part and refused to go to the village dance. They were angry with the mayor. "Treat a poor fellow in such a way, when he has not long to live! You must be heartless!"
When Brothers Blairaux found them in danger, they made peace with Zire and increased their offer for Zire, yet Zire refused. "I want to die in my father's house" he said.
"Sell it to us and you shall keep the use of it during your life-time," said the treasurer of the charity organization, who thought that Zire would not last long. The idea pleased the plasterer; they discussed it a lot and finally they agreed on the deal. Based on the deal, Zire was to retain the use of the house until his death, and the Blairaux would have it after his death. Another requirement of the deal was that the Brothers must pay Zire rent while he lived, but only two or three times at most , for Zire would not last long. All villagers said that the Brothers are fine foxes. "They have bought Zire's place cheaply; for he won't last long."
Every year Zire got his rent, and each time the Blairaux thought they had paid for the last time.
The mayor died without having seen the orchard joined to his land. The two brothers paid the proper amount next time with sad faces. After the mayor, the farmer died, and Zire who had no long to live, continued coughing and drawing his rent. Zire had almost received two or three times the value of his field, but the people said that this Blairaux was a lucky fellow.
The last brother had to pay the rent for Zire and still desire to have the land. Zire's death was a big wish of him. Everytime he had to pay the rent to Zire said: Ah! There you are! Are you never going to die?
"Mr. Blairaux, how can you say that to a poor man who has no long to live?" answered Zire, coughing.
Zire buried the third Blairaux and then died himself, over a hundred years of old. For over three-quarters of a century he had not long to live.
++++++++++++++
Zire's land and his little house was surrounded by three brothers properties, Brothers Blairaux. They were said to be the richest people in the village. One was mayor, the other one farmer and the last one was treasurer or a charity organization. All three were strong fellows, with powerful limbs. They looked as they were made to live for hundred years. They owned about a hundred acres of land, and many houses in the village. Yet, they were buying a house from here, a piece of land from there and tried to increase their amount of lands properties. In order to connect all their lands and make the estate, they had to buy Zire's house and land. "He won't last long" brothers said to themselves. "We shall have it for nothing after his death".
But their wish finally become stronger than their reason; they wanted to have the estate at once and as soon as possible. For, after his death his heirs might make problem in dealing with them. They used a lot of tricks, but after all, they started negotiations with Zire. Their plans were of no use; he would not sell his land and house. Zire shook his head with his pale face while coughing said: You can ask me anything else, sirs: but do not ask me to leave the house which i owned for many years and even before me my grandfathers lived here. You know that I have no long to live, so be patient, I will not go anywhere else for the short time that I have for living. I will die in the house that I was born and where all my parents died.
Brothers had no strong reason to say to Zire, he looked right. But still brothers wanted the land and his house. They started to frighten him with threats. They stopped dealing with him, and the mayor engaged another musician for the village parties. Poor Zire felt hurt by this blow. But, all the villagers took his part and refused to go to the village dance. They were angry with the mayor. "Treat a poor fellow in such a way, when he has not long to live! You must be heartless!"
When Brothers Blairaux found them in danger, they made peace with Zire and increased their offer for Zire, yet Zire refused. "I want to die in my father's house" he said.
"Sell it to us and you shall keep the use of it during your life-time," said the treasurer of the charity organization, who thought that Zire would not last long. The idea pleased the plasterer; they discussed it a lot and finally they agreed on the deal. Based on the deal, Zire was to retain the use of the house until his death, and the Blairaux would have it after his death. Another requirement of the deal was that the Brothers must pay Zire rent while he lived, but only two or three times at most , for Zire would not last long. All villagers said that the Brothers are fine foxes. "They have bought Zire's place cheaply; for he won't last long."
Every year Zire got his rent, and each time the Blairaux thought they had paid for the last time.
The mayor died without having seen the orchard joined to his land. The two brothers paid the proper amount next time with sad faces. After the mayor, the farmer died, and Zire who had no long to live, continued coughing and drawing his rent. Zire had almost received two or three times the value of his field, but the people said that this Blairaux was a lucky fellow.
The last brother had to pay the rent for Zire and still desire to have the land. Zire's death was a big wish of him. Everytime he had to pay the rent to Zire said: Ah! There you are! Are you never going to die?
"Mr. Blairaux, how can you say that to a poor man who has no long to live?" answered Zire, coughing.
Zire buried the third Blairaux and then died himself, over a hundred years of old. For over three-quarters of a century he had not long to live.
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Sunday, April 24, 2011
Zire Buzette
Zire Buzette
Based on the story written by Maurice Des Ombriaux
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I am living in a small village in Belgium, my name is Mari and I want to write about a man from my village, Zire Buzette. More details about the man will be in the story.
Zire Buzette was a poor man in our village, who suffered from a dry and painful cough for almost all of his life, the cough that had a high pitch noise and seemed to tear his chest. Many of the villagers would say, when seeing him coughing: "Poor Zire, he has no long to live."
Zire had two different jobs during the Winter and Summer. During the Summer, he used to work as a plasterer; he left home ealry in the morning with his bucket and brushes, and coughed all the time while passing the roads to work. "Poor Zire, with this health condition, he is working a lot, he has no long to live." said everyone. Nothing could persuade him to go to a hospital, his blood was being poisoned more and more. "He has no long to live". But Zire went off to make the houses beautiful and white and coughed on his ladder with the brush in his hand. People were looking for him all the time to bring him to thier houses to paint thier houses, for the sake of sympaty; because, they were thinking that poor Zire had no long to live. When he was working at people houses, usually they provided him with good food and soup, and saying to themselves: Poor Zire, he is sick and has no long to live, lets provide him with good food; who knows, today or tomorrow he will die. Everywhere, people offered him and made him the best food and wine in the village. "Poor Zire, he is no long to live" they said.
Yet he lived on, and even on Sundays he played violin for young people, for they wanted to dance. While he played, he coughed. "Poor Zire, he must be cold sitting on that chair, coughing and shivering. Ah no, he has no long to live." And so, at every pause he was offered a good drink and a peice of cake, the least thing that everyone wanted to do for him, who had no long to live. At the same time, Zire was liked as a musician, no one could have people dance as he did.
Zire never refused anything, he drank everything and ate almost anything that was offered, without hurrying himself. "It is his disease" they thought. "He need food, he is poor and sick, he has no long to live." Zire also went to neighbors house to thier parties to make the youngest people dance, and everywhere he was treated better than a worker.
During the winters, he was not able to work as a plasterer and people were not interested in that job during the winter. Zire worked as a shoemaker during the winter, and almost all people in the village asked him to make shoes for them. "Poor zire has no long to live, lets give him a chance of work." said villagers.
Weak and coughing Zire who had no long to live, had already burried two wives. The first wife married him out of money; she had tought "It does not bind me a long time, he has no long to live and then I will have all of his assets". I have to mention here that Zire had a big house in the village, and he had no relatives. She died of a chill.
The second one also married him for his money. "He has no long to live and it is a good business. I will inherit from him" she thought. She died.
The rest of the story is very interesting; you will read how three brothers living in the village tried to own Zire's house and land... follow next week please :) ...Mari
Based on the story written by Maurice Des Ombriaux
.
.
I am living in a small village in Belgium, my name is Mari and I want to write about a man from my village, Zire Buzette. More details about the man will be in the story.
............
Zire Buzette was a poor man in our village, who suffered from a dry and painful cough for almost all of his life, the cough that had a high pitch noise and seemed to tear his chest. Many of the villagers would say, when seeing him coughing: "Poor Zire, he has no long to live."
Zire had two different jobs during the Winter and Summer. During the Summer, he used to work as a plasterer; he left home ealry in the morning with his bucket and brushes, and coughed all the time while passing the roads to work. "Poor Zire, with this health condition, he is working a lot, he has no long to live." said everyone. Nothing could persuade him to go to a hospital, his blood was being poisoned more and more. "He has no long to live". But Zire went off to make the houses beautiful and white and coughed on his ladder with the brush in his hand. People were looking for him all the time to bring him to thier houses to paint thier houses, for the sake of sympaty; because, they were thinking that poor Zire had no long to live. When he was working at people houses, usually they provided him with good food and soup, and saying to themselves: Poor Zire, he is sick and has no long to live, lets provide him with good food; who knows, today or tomorrow he will die. Everywhere, people offered him and made him the best food and wine in the village. "Poor Zire, he is no long to live" they said.
Yet he lived on, and even on Sundays he played violin for young people, for they wanted to dance. While he played, he coughed. "Poor Zire, he must be cold sitting on that chair, coughing and shivering. Ah no, he has no long to live." And so, at every pause he was offered a good drink and a peice of cake, the least thing that everyone wanted to do for him, who had no long to live. At the same time, Zire was liked as a musician, no one could have people dance as he did.
Zire never refused anything, he drank everything and ate almost anything that was offered, without hurrying himself. "It is his disease" they thought. "He need food, he is poor and sick, he has no long to live." Zire also went to neighbors house to thier parties to make the youngest people dance, and everywhere he was treated better than a worker.
During the winters, he was not able to work as a plasterer and people were not interested in that job during the winter. Zire worked as a shoemaker during the winter, and almost all people in the village asked him to make shoes for them. "Poor zire has no long to live, lets give him a chance of work." said villagers.
Weak and coughing Zire who had no long to live, had already burried two wives. The first wife married him out of money; she had tought "It does not bind me a long time, he has no long to live and then I will have all of his assets". I have to mention here that Zire had a big house in the village, and he had no relatives. She died of a chill.
The second one also married him for his money. "He has no long to live and it is a good business. I will inherit from him" she thought. She died.
The rest of the story is very interesting; you will read how three brothers living in the village tried to own Zire's house and land... follow next week please :) ...Mari
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Tom and Jack
I couldn't understand why the two brothers were fighting. I tried to be an intercessor, but a shout from Tom stopped me from intervening. Tom is the head of the mine and many workers were working under him. Tom asked some mine diggers to help him throw Jack, his brother, in a well that lead to some underground canals that have no way out. At the last moment, Jack said Tom " You are not going to let the sun go down, are you, Tom?" Tom said nothing. Tom threw Jack in the canals and closed the well with sand and clay. Tom walked to the tent, where tea and potatoes were ready for him, but he couldn't eat. He sat at the table; while seemed nervous. He started walking around, going back and forth in the tent. Tom couldn't forget his brother's last appeal: "You are not going to let sun go down, are you?" He remembered an old poet, without caring about the poem: "Let not the sun go down upon your wrath." The words was like a good advice for Tom, when they let the sun go down on their wrath, that is likely to worry them at night. I found my self as restless as Tom. I was not able to do anything, just watching and praying for a change in Tom's mind, for I still hopped to draw jack alive from the underground canals. Later on, I become aware that Jack started the quarrel, although he admitted it and apologized. As time was passing, I saw that Tom was getting more sad. Suddenly I saw Tom running to one of the shafts as someone shouted at him: "For God's sake, Tom come here!" The diggers were worried about Tom, too; because, they knew that going to that shaft is a risk that may cause serious problems for him, but Tom had made up his mind and did not listen to the diggers. All the diggers saw what had happened. It was not a good decision to go down to that kind of shafts with no wood at the sides with that sort of unstable ground.At any time, there was the chance of shaft collapsing and inducing Tom to his unforeseen death. Tom was shouting as was running to the end of the shaft: "Jack! Run to the face to the end of the passage! Run for your life!" Tom asked the diggers to give him the tools. he knelt on the damp clay, and started digging like a crazy man. He refused to give the tools to others to dig, for he thought that the other might be slow in bringing out his brother. He counted that he had 6 or 8 feet to go and he knew that the air would not last long there even if the roof had not already collapsed and crushed his brother. He was so tired and huge drops of sweat were shining on his forehead and face. His breath were so deep, but yet he struck so strongly. Once he stopped and heard a sound, like beating on a stone, he realized that Jack was safe. Tom dug again until he could make a hole to the canal where Jack was standing. "Thanks God, Jack! You are safe !" Tom shouted. "Yes Tom, you are in time, I can hardly breath, take me out of here", Jack said Tom. Tom was crouching against the clay, suddenly fell back against the man behind him. "Oh God", he cried. I was so happy of this, but my happiness did not last even for a minute, and I saw that Tom struggled to his knees, and then fell forward on his hand dragged himself close to the hole on the clay. Jack! he gasped. Jack! "Right Tom, what is the matter Tom?" Jack asked. Tom's answer was so heartbreaking, he said: I have hurt my heart Jack, put your hand out - quick! The sun is going down. Jack came out with one hand in his brother's hand, Tom gripped Jack's hand and then fell with his face in the damp clay. Diggers carried and dragged him from the passage, for the roof was low, they had to stoop. The diggers toke him to the shaft and sent him up fastened with a rope. You can not believe how a tragic scene it was; though Jack could come out of his prison and came to the surface, but he knelt on the grass by Tom's body. I and the rest of the diggers took off our hats to respect the action of Tom. The sun went down, but the man did not let it go down upon his wrath. Yet, after many years, I sometime think about that day and the happening, and think that how with a high price Tom could save his brother's life. I can not stop taking off my hat when I remember him. (A digger)
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