In one village there lived a poor man. He had no shelter, no clothes, no food. One day he decided to go wherever his eyes led him; took some food and left the village. At one place he stopped, took out his meager supplies and got ready to eat. At this time, a man approached him.
“Bon appetit,” he said.
“Thank you,” replied the poor man.
- Why don’t you invite me to share food with you? — the man asked in surprise.
- Who are you? - asked the poor man.
“I am God,” answered the man.
“If you are a god, I will not put you with me,” said the poor man. - God distinguishes between people: He makes some happy and rich, others unhappy and poor. You are unfair, that's why I won't invite you to eat with me.
The poor man left this man and moved on. He walked for a long time until he got tired. Finally I decided to rest and eat. Just as he was about to eat, a man approached him again.
“Bon appetit,” he said.
“Thank you,” replied the poor man.
- Why don’t you invite me to share food with you? - asked the man.
- Who are you? - asked the poor man.
“I—pseheh—the angel of death,” answered the man.
“Then I invite you to eat with me.” I met God, but I didn’t feed him, because he is unfair: he makes some rich, others poor. You are fair, for you all people are the same, because both rich and poor die. “Sit down and eat,” the poor man cordially invited.
-Where are you going now? - asked psehekh. The poor man told where and why he was going.
“Then,” said the pseheh, “you better return to your village.” Your daughter is seriously ill. You go there and tell her that you will try to cure her. Go to the patient and sit there. I'll come there too. If a girl has to die, I will stand at her bedside. If she must recover, I will stand at her feet. Then you take some medicine and give her a drink. Pshi will give you a gift, and you will become rich.
The poor man did just that. He returned to the village, went to Psha and told him that he could cure his daughter. He was taken to the patient’s room and sat at her head. Soon the angel of death came there and stood at the feet of the sick woman. Then the poor man ordered to bring some water and some flour, mixed everything and gave the girl a drink. She drank it, and she immediately felt better. He gave me another drink and the patient got up. The third time he gave her a drink, the girl recovered.
Pshi was very happy that his daughter recovered.
- Tell me, what do you want for saving my daughter? he asked.
- Build me a house, the best of which there will be no one in the village, and put in it everything that is necessary.
Pshi fulfilled the request of the poor man, and he lived richly and happily.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru