Many years ago, there lived a young man who was more eager to learn than any other. He spent a great deal of time with his teachers at the madrasa, and even after he married, he continued his studies. When his father died, he could hardly wait for the mourning period to end so that he could return to his studies. His knowledge of the world grew steadily, but it still wasn’t enough for him him.
Then one day he heard of a master, an old man who knew the answer to every question. From that moment on, the young man could find no peace. He wanted to find the master and learn from him. He left his wife and travelled to the foreign land where the wise man lived.
The young man wandered for a long time until he found the master in his forge.
‘What do you desire?’ asked the old man.
‘Knowledge!’ said the young man. ‘I want to gain knowledge.’
Then the master placed the bellows in his hand and said: ‘Pump! And then you must let go again.’
The young man pumped the bellows, let them go, and made the fire in the smithy glow.
He spent the whole day pumping the bellows. A week passed, then a month, and finally a year, and he watched as people came into the forge and asked questions. Some received an answer; others were given a task, which they carried out day after day, just like him, without complaint and without speaking a word.
Ten years passed before the young man lost his patience, broke the silence and asked: ‘Master, the knowledge. I wish to learn it.’
But the master merely said: ‘Pump the bellows,’ and the young man went back to his work.
In the evenings he lay in his chamber and read the books the master had given him. If he had a question, he was allowed to write it on a piece of paper and give it to the master.
Often the master threw the papers into the fire; then the young man knew that the question was not worth an answer. Sometimes, however, the master tucked the paper into his turban. Then, in the evening, the young man would find the answer written in golden letters above his bed.
Twenty years had passed when the master came to him and said: ‘It is time for you to return home. You have learnt enough. The knowledge you have sought is called patience.’
So the man took his leave of his master and set out on the long journey home. He was on the road for more than forty days, pondering the master’s words in his heart: patience. On his journey, much seemed strange to him, and he realised how little he now knew of the world about which he once thought he knew so much about. 
When he arrived in his homeland and saw his house before him, he thought of his wife’s joy, of the happiness in her eyes that he was back. He was just about to knock on the door when he looked through the window into the house.
What did he see? His wife was sitting on the carpet and beside her was a young man with whom she was chatting and laughing. Anger and jealousy seized him. He reached for his bow and arrow and was about to shoot them both with a shot. Then the master’s words came to mind: patience. He lowered the bow and knocked.
The young man opened the door and led him inside. His wife rose, her eyes shining, and she said: ‘Ahmed, my son, this is your father!’
Then the man fell to his knees, touched his forehead to the ground and thought: ‘For twenty years I have learnt patience, and yet I almost killed my own son and my wife.
How great is human weakness and how infinite is divine wisdom!”
Then he stood up, embraced his wife and son, and lived in peace and happiness from that day on.

Fassung D. Jaenike, aus: Die Quelle der Weisheit, © Mutabor Verlag, Übersetzung ins Englische: Lysander Jaenike