You may not know it, but there is a rabbit who lives and works on the Moon. His occupation? He spends all his days making pure, white rice cakes. In the evenings, he lays them out carefully, with each rice cake distanced equally from the others, until the entire surface of the Moon is covered by his chewy treats. His employer? The Sun. 

The rabbit doesn’t particularly like making rice cakes. It’s not that he hates it, but he would rather be doing something else. 

The rabbit always dreamed of becoming a musician. He wanted to make music that would inspire people to live compassionately and treat others with care and understanding. 

One day, the rabbit mustered up the courage to speak with The Sun about his aspirations. 

“Sun, why do you have me making rice cakes all day long?” asked the rabbit. 

“Well, your task is not about making the rice cakes. Your task is to spread the fresh rice cakes to cover the surface of the Moon,” replied The Sun 

“Oh, I see,” said the rabbit with a sigh. “You see, I’ve always wanted to make music to inspire people. I’ve always wanted for the people of Earth to be moved—compelled to treat one another with love and understanding…” 

“My dear Rabbit, don’t you see?” replied The Sun. “Your daily work does inspire the people of Earth. Why don’t you think about it tonight as you lay out your rice cakes. You need not search for a new occupation if inspiration is your aim.” 

That night, as the rabbit was laying out his rice cakes, he thought and he thought and he thought. He thought until he could no more. 

“How will these simple rice cakes ever inspire the people of Earth?” he asked himself. “They can’t enjoy their sweetness nor their delightful chewyness.” 

The next day, exceptionally exhausted from all the thinking, the rabbit returned to see The Sun. 

“Sun, I spent the whole evening thinking of how my rice cakes could inspire the people of Earth, and I’ve concluded that it is impossible!” exclaimed the rabbit. “They shall never know how delicious they are and with what care I prepare them.” 

“Oh, my dear Rabbit, I’m afraid you’ve missed the mark ever so slightly,” replied The Sun encouragingly. “Indeed, the people of Earth will never taste your rice cakes. They were never intended to inspire by taste. This evening, think it over with care, and I’m sure this time you’ll see just how much your rice cakes inspire the people of Earth.” 

So the rabbit returned to his kitchen, and, once again, began to mull it over. As he worked, he pondered and he pondered and he pondered. He pondered until he could no more. 

“I can barely spot a tall building on Earth. How would anyone way down there see my rice cakes way up here?” the rabbit questioned. “It’s too far. They’ll never see the artful presentation of my rice cakes.” 

Somewhat dejected, the rabbit returned the following day to report his findings to The Sun. 

“Sun, with all due respect, again, I believe you are mistaken about my rice cakes. No one from Earth will ever see how perfectly shaped and how wonderfully glossy my rice cakes are. Now I really would like it if you would let me pursue music!” exclaimed the rabbit. 

“Wonderfully glossy…” echoed The Sun.

“Yes, but…” 

“Indeed, your rice cakes are the glossiest I have ever seen,” continued The Sun. “The gloss on your rice cakes reflects my light to make the Moon shine at night. Without your rice cakes, the Moon wouldn’t shine at all. When the people of Earth look up at night, the sight of the Moon reminds them that they are part of something bigger. If even for a brief moment, they pause, and appreciate the beauty, wonder, and mystery of their existence. They are reminded that the people who came before them gazed upon the same shining moon. They are reminded that the people who will follow in their footsteps will look upon it, too. They are reminded that they share the Moon, among other things, with all other beings on Earth. This inspires them greatly—to act compassionately and humbly with one another.” 

“So, my dear Rabbit, you see that your rice cakes illuminate not just the night sky, but also the hearts of all beings on Earth.”

A short story about purpose

This story is dedicated to my baby son. It’s a story about finding purpose and meaning in what you’re doing now. It reminds us that not only is the grass not always greener on the other side, but the grass on this side is already plenty green. We just need to look deeper to find the meaning in our lives (and work) today. 

There was an old farmer who had a herd of horses. One day, the horses broke through the fence and the whole herd ran off into the wild. 

On hearing the unfortunate news, the old farmer’s neighbor came over and said, ‘This is really bad fortune for you.’ The old farmer simply replied, ‘Maybe.’

The next day, to everyone’s surprise, the herd returned but with a beautiful black stallion in their midst. This stallion was a valuable asset. 

Again, the neighbor came over and said to the old farmer, ‘This is very good fortune for you.’ The farmer simply rejoined with ‘Maybe’. 

The very next day, the farmer’s son tried to mount the new black stallion, fell, and broke his leg. 

Once again, the neighbor appeared. ‘This is very bad fortune for you.’ Again, the farmer simply sighed and said, ‘Maybe.’ 

A week passed and the army came to the farmer’s village to press all the young men into service. The captain of the army came up to the old farmer and demanded that he hand over his only son. 

Unfortunately, the farmer’s son was on crutches, nursing a badly broken leg and the army moved on to the next homestead.

A short story about fate: The moral

It takes humility to embrace fate. There is so much we can never know about how events will unfold. There are always unforeseen ways in which situations evolve—for good or for bad. However, the one thing which is true of both the good and the bad is that there are many factors we cannot control. In the face of outcomes we do not control, we must have the courage to let go. We have the humility to acknowledge that we don’t know exactly how things will play out and we have the courage to spare ourselves from useless worrying.