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monster headphones outlet In the town of Vladimir lived a young merchant named Ivan Dmitritch Aksyonof. He had two shops and a house of his own.
Aksyonof was a handsome, fair-haired, curly-headed fellow, full of fun, and very fond of singing. When quite a young man he had been given to drink, and was riotous when he had had too much, but after he married he gave up drinking, except now and then.
One summer Aksyonof was going to the Nizhny Fair, and as he bade good-bye to his family his wife said to him, “Ivan Dmitritch, do not start today; I have had a bad dream about you.”
Aksyonof laughed, and said, “You are afraid that when I get to the fair I shall go on the spree.”
His wife replied: “I do not know what I am afraid of; all I know is that I had a bad dream. I dreamt you returned from the town, and when you took off your cap I saw that your hair was quite gray.”
Aksyonof laughed. “That’s a lucky sign,” said he. “See if I don’t sell out all my goods, and bring you some presents from the fair.” So he said good-bye to his family, and drove away.
When he had traveled halfway, he met a merchant whom he knew, and they put up at the same inn for the night. They had some tea together, and then went to bed in adjoining rooms.
It was not Aksyonof ’s habit to sleep late, and, wishing to travel while it was still cool, he aroused his driver before dawn, and told him to put in the horses.
Then he made his way across to the landlord of the inn (who lived in a cottage at the back), paid his bill, and continued his journey.
When he had gone about twenty-five miles, he stopped for the horses to be fed. Aksyonof rested awhile in the passage of the inn, then he stepped out into the porch and, ordering a samovar to be heated got out his guitar and began to play.
Suddenly a troika drove up with tinkling bells, and an official alighted, followed by two soldiers. He came to Aksyonof and began to question him, asking him who he was and whence he came. Aksyonof answered him fully, and said, “Won’t you have some tea with me?” But the official went on crossquestioning him and asking him, “Where did you spend last night? Were you alone, or with a fellow merchant? Did you see the other merchant this morning?
Why did you leave the inn before dawn?”
Aksyonof wondered why he was asked all these questions, but he described all that had happened, and then added, “Why do you cross question me as if I were a thief or a robber? I am travelling on business of my own, and there is no need to question me.” Then the official, calling the soldiers, said, “I am the police officer of this district, and I question you because the merchant with whom you spent last night has been found with his throat cut. We must search your things.”
They entered the house. The soldiers and the police officer unstrapped
Aksyonof’s luggage and searched it. Suddenly the officer drew a knife out of a bag, crying, “Whose knife is this?” Aksyonof looked, and seeing a bloodstained knife taken from his bag, he was frightened. “How is it there is blood on this knife?”
Aksyonof tried to answer, but could hardly utter a word, and only stammered: “I – I don’t know – not mine.”
Then the police officer said, “This morning the merchant was found in bed with his throat cut. You are the only person who could have done it. The house was locked from inside, and no one else was there. Here is this bloodstained knife in your bag, and your face and manner betray you! Tell me how you killed him, and how much money you stole.”
Aksyonof swore he had not done it; that he had not seen the merchant after they had had tea together; that he had no money except eight thousand roubles of his own, and that the knife was not his. But his voice was broken, his face pale, and he trembled with fear as though he were guilty. The police officer ordered the soldiers to bind Aksyonof and to put him in the cart. As they tied his feet together and flung him into the cart, Aksyonof crossed himself and wept. His money and goods were taken from him, and he was sent to the nearest town and imprisoned there. Enquiries as to his character were made in Vladimir. The merchants and other inhabitants of that
town said that in former days he used to drink and waste his time, but that he was a good man. Then the trial came on: he was charged with murdering a merchant from Ryazan, and robbing him of twenty thousand roubles.
His wife was in despair, and did not know what to believe. Her children were all quite small; one was a baby at her breast. Taking them all with her, she went to the town where her husband was in gaol. At first she was not allowed to see him; but, after much begging, she obtained permission from the officials, and was taken to him. When she saw her husband in prison dress and in chains, shut up with thieves and criminals, she fell down, and did not come to her senses for a long time. Then she drew her children to her, and sat down near him. She told him of things at home, and asked about what had happened to him. He told her all, and she asked, “What can we do now?”
“We must petition the Tsar not to let an innocent man perish.”
His wife told him that she had sent a petition to the Tsar, but that it had not been accepted.
Aksyonof did not reply, but only looked downcast.
Then his wife said, “It was not for nothing I dreamt your hair had turned gray. You remember? You should not have started that day.” And passing her fingers through his hair, she said: “Vanya dearest, tell your wife the truth; was it not you who did it?”monster headphones outlet
“So you, too, suspect me!” said Aksyonof, and hiding his face in his hands, he began to weep. Then a soldier came to say that the wife and children must go away; and Aksyonof said good-bye to his family for the last time.beats by dre
When they were gone, Aksyonof recalled what had been said, and when he remembered that his wife also had suspected him, he said to himself, “It seems that only God can know the truth, it is to Him alone we must appeal, and from Him alone expect mercy.” And Aksyonof wrote no more petitions; gave up all hope, and only prayed to God.monster beats outlet
Aksyonof was condemned to be flogged and sent to the mines. So he was flogged with a knout, and when the wounds made by the knout healed, he was driven to Siberia with other convicts.
For twenty-six years Aksyonof lived as a convict in Siberia. His hair turned white as snow and his beard grew long, thin, and gray. All his mirth went; he stooped; he walked slowly, spoke little, and never laughed, but he often prayed.
In prison Aksyonof learnt to make boots, and earned a little money, with which he bought The Lives of the Saints. He read this book when there was light enough in the prison; and on Sundays in the prison-church he read the lessons and sang in the choir; for his voice was still good.
The prison authorities liked Aksyonof for his meekness, and his fellow prisoners respected him: they called him “Grandfather,” and “The Saint.” When they wanted to petition the prison authorities about anything, they always made Aksyonof their spokesman, and when there were quarrels among the prisoners they came to him to put things right, and to judge the matter.
No news reached Aksyonof from his home, and he did not even know if his wife and children were still alive.dr dre headphones -
beats by dreIn every man there is a king. Speak to the king, and the king will come forth.Outside our hotel in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, a seemingly ancient woman on crutches waited beside the door with her hand outstretched. Every day I put my hand in hers as our eyes met. She never failed to return my smile, my grasp, and my sin chau greeting.On the last day of our visit, I found myself alone on a busy corner across the street from our hotel. Bicycles and motorbikes careened in front of me. We had been advised to walk straight through the teeming traffic without looking right or left. Let them avoid us.But tonight I was by myself and felt inadequate to face the torrent of vehicles. As I hesitated on the curb, I felt a hand on my elbow and looked down to see the smile of my small beggar friend looking up at me. She nodded her head toward the street, indicating that she would take me across. Together, we moved slowly into the chaos as she gently prodded me forward.monster headphones outlet
When we reached the center of the crossing, I looked down at her again, and couldn’t resist exclaiming, ”You have the most beautiful smile.”She obviously knew little English, but must have recognized the tone, for she threw both arms and crutches around me in a big hug, while the traffic streamed by us on both sides.monster beats outlet
Then we precarious moved on toward the sidewalk, where she pulled my face down to hers, kissed me on both cheeks, and then limped away, still smiling and waving back to me.I had not given her a single coin. We had shared something vastly more important － a warming of hearts in friendship.This experience remained me of something Mother Teresa once said: ”If you cannot do great things, you can do small things with great love.”To look beggars in the eye and smile, thus acknowledging their existence, is a small thing. Putting your hand into another’s outstretched hand and grasping it firmly for a moment is also a small thing. Learning to use a greeting in the local language is not too difficult. But these are important.For many reasons, giving money is not the best response to an outstretched hand. Many world travelers have discovered that the greatest gift they can give is their time and friendship. Everyone needs recognition, to be seen as worthy of attention, to feel appreciated and loved.Traveling in poorer nations, I have witnessed a variety of ways to deal with beggars.dr dre headphones The most common response of tourists faced with the poverty-stricken is to ignore them and focus their eyes elsewhere. I have seen people push away an outstretched hand in angry annoyance. A few may hastily drop a few coins into a beseeching palm, and then execute a quick getaway in hopes that another 20 ragged pursuers won’t immediately appear on the scene.But I feel it’s worthwhile to try to live by the words of English author John Cowper Powys: ”No one can consider himself wholly civilized who does not look upon every individual, without a single exception, as of deep and startling interest.”I once spotted a legless man sitting by a road at the Pushkar Camel Fair in India. I was returning to my tent after recording the exotic music of the dancing men of Pushkar and was replaying the music on my tape recorder. When the man’s smile lured me to join him, we began to communicate in the kind of sign language and laughter one learns while vagabonding around the world.After mimicking the whirling skirts and sticks, I showed him how my tape recorder worked. He motioned for me to give it to him. I hesitated, but only for a moment. After examining it carefully, he began to sing a hauntingly beautiful song, indicating that he wanted me to record it and take it home as a memory of our time together.Moments before, we had been total strangers: suddenly, we were cemented in a momentary friendship born of our common existence in this world. His eyes shone as we exchanged names. My experience with Vidur confirmed the truth of the Scandinavian proverb: ”In every man there is a king. Speak to the king, and the king will come forth.”I’ve learned that those considered the world’s most hopeless are so often rich in humanity, with hearts yearning to be affirmed － and ready to respond.My life continues to be enriched by connecting with everyday humanity. Each time I do this, I rediscover that what I have been given is far beyond monetary value. And I reaffirm that everyone is worthy － and worth knowing.dre beats -
