The teacher drew from his satchel a fine silk pouch with something evidently tucked inside. Valuables are usually wrapped in such things, but where would this simple ascetic have come by a treasure? He set the satchel aside and began to open the reddish silk pouch, woven with dragon figures, whose mouth was drawn shut with yellow ribbons.
– Pearls on a thread… – he murmured, half to himself, then slowly drew out a necklace of real pearls. Pearls of many colours were ranged along it: pale opalescent whites, somewhat larger ones shading into yellow, pinks, baroque shapes, and a few black pearls too, though not wholly black but rather of an iridescent, metallic hue, with a tone now of deep green, now of silver.
– Do you see the necklace? – he asked his disciple, who was gazing in wonder at the string of pearls in his teacher's hand.
– Yes, of course I see it – the youth answered quickly, and then asked: – But where did you come by such a treasure? And to what end? I have never seen you with it before…
– You have not seen it… there is much you have not seen yet – the old man said meaningfully. – To me everything is important and nothing is important. What reminds me of the divine wonder is important, and what does not is not important at all. My master gave me this strand when he was teaching me the important things.
– The important things?
– Yes. A string of pearls is important, is it not? Especially one as valuable as this.
– Of course, it must be important. Do you keep it as a memento?
– A memento, yes, but it reminds me not only of my master but of the truth as well. How does it look to you?
– Colourful! And long! And very beautiful.
– You see how the pearls are ranged, yellow, white, rosy, and here the black ones too. Smaller, larger, beautifully arranged… – he too gazed at the string of pearls as he told its beads between his fingers. As though he were holding his prayer beads.
– What makes up a string of pearls? – he asked suddenly. His disciple at first looked at him, perplexed, then collected himself and said:
– Well… the pearls!
– Doubtless the pearls are important! Without pearls we could not even speak of a necklace – he went on telling the beads. – But what else do you see?
His disciple looked at him blankly, seeing nothing more. He raised his eyes expectantly to his teacher, who smiled.
– That's it, that is just it! What you do not see – the thread!
The disciple's face lit up: he had not thought of that!
– As pearls on a thread, so all things rest on Me – said God… – the master quoted the scriptures. Then he began to explain how dazzlingly beautiful, colourful and varied phenomena are, like the pearls. One is of this colour, another of that, a multitude of forms and shades – enchantment! But without the thread they would all roll away, they could not be held together, and any one of them could easily be lost.
– Without pearls there is no string of pearls – anyone knows that at first glance. But however many pearls you lay side by side, they will never make a string of pearls: for that you need the invisible essence which holds them together…
He went on teaching the youth for a long time: of the myriad host of experiences, of the varied pearls that are the things of life, turning the beads between his fingers all the while. He never ran out of examples, and what he had to say carried away both himself and his disciple. The youth now laughed, now grew serious, but when his master gathered the string of pearls into his palm, slowly commanded it back into the silk pouch, and then handed it to him with a wise smile, the youth's very breath caught.