Talking with his wife at night, the Khoja said:
“If it rains tomorrow morning, I’ll go get firewood, but if it doesn’t rain, I’ll plow.”
“Add: if God wills,” the wife remarked.
And the Khoja said:
- Well, what is there! Either this way or that way, I won’t be without work, I’ll do something.
When he went out of the city in the morning, he met sipahis (warriors in the Ottoman Empire).
“Hey, uncle,” they shouted to him, “come here!” How to get there?
“I don’t know,” said the Hodja carefree.
And the rude sipahis, without allowing the hoja to come to his senses, hit him several times.
“Oh, you so-and-so,” they shouted, “marsh forward, lead us!” - and drove him forward.
In the rain, in the mud, the Hodja led them to the city. And at midnight, beaten, tired, half-dead, he approached his house and began knocking:
-Who's there? - asked the wife.
“Open up, wife, it’s me, if God wills,” the Khoja muttered.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru