Ia and the Baskets

Ia strode on a path near a sandy beach along the ocean which lay below an outcropping of stone followed the coast. A group of three women who hauled baskets woven of reeds and wicker approached him as he walked. They set down the large baskets in the sand and paused in their labors.

'You are not from these parts,' one of the women said to Ia when she took note of his appearance, and Ia responded, 'You speak truly. Tell me, what is it that you carry in those baskets?'

'Stones,' replied another woman. 'And seashells, should we find any and yet have space for them,' said the third.

'You empty your baskets of shells if you find stones to carry?' Ia asked, curious, as this custom was not one he had yet seen.

'It is the way of things,' said the first woman. 'If our burdens grow too light and too precious, we do not take note of them as burdens any longer,' added the second.

'Would you not rather that the weights you carry grow lighter so you may go about your lives more readily and with less concern for how much you carry?' Ia asked.

'Something lightly carried is also lightly lost,' said the third woman. 'And not all find seashells to be as valuable as do we. But all understand the weight and promise of stones.' And she laughed gaily, as did the other two women.

Ia could not laugh. Instead he saw that these women grasped filaments of truth which many others did not, and he taught them for a time, and he left them after they had taken his teachings to heart.