The man sits. The mystic sings a song, so beautiful, so in tune with the rain and the sounds of silence in the forest. And just then somebody else knocks on the door. The mystic says to the guest, “You are close to the door, please open it. Somebody needs refuge; the night is dangerous outside.” But the man who was asking for refuge just a few minutes before is angry. He says, “What do you mean? There is no space.”
The mystic says, “It is not a palace of a king, which is always short of space. It is a small hut of a poor mystic. We are sitting; three can sit comfortably. Four will have to sit a little tight, more close to each other. And it is really a joy to feel each others’ warmth and love – the night is cold. The guest is welcome. You open the doors! And remember, a few minutes before you were in the same position.” Reluctantly the man opens the door.
Another man has lost his way in the forest and he says, “Excuse me, I am absolutely helpless; otherwise I would not have knocked on your doors. I can see the place is so small and already three persons are sitting.”
The mystic says, “There is no problem. We will sit a little closely to each other. There are gaps between the three; there will be no gaps between the four. And to feel each others’ love, to feel each others’ warmth, to feel each others’ life is a joy in itself. You are welcome. Sit down and close the door.”
Now the hut is completely packed. The mystic sings another song, and as he ends the song there is another knock on the door, and a very different kind of knock. Everybody else is shocked. They know the mystic will allow whoever is knocking. The mystic says, “Open the door. He is nobody, he is one of my friends. He is a donkey who lives nearby, a wild donkey.”
All the guests and the wife become angry, and they say, “This is too much. It is beyond tolerance. You want a donkey in this place where there is no space left even for sitting comfortably?”
The mystic says, “How many times do I have to remind you that this is a poor mystic’s hut. There is always space, one just has to find it. We are sitting; now we will be standing. And anyway, three-fourths of the night is past. Soon there will be the sunrise. Open the door and let the guest in – it does not matter whether he is a man or a donkey. To me, anybody who is asking for refuge should be welcomed. And you remember perfectly well – you were in the same state just a few minutes before.”
Very reluctantly the person opens the door and a donkey, drenched with water, enters, and the mystic says, “Poor donkey, he needs our help. Let him stand in the middle and we will surround him. He will get a little warmth. And perhaps you don’t know that he loves my songs. I will give a special song in his welcome. Close the doors.”
They are all puzzled. He sings a song, and the donkey listens very attentively.