A child, whose name we have all forgotten, met three old men walking
together, and to each of them put a question.
‘What is there in the heart of the forest?’
‘Nothing but trees,’ replied the first old man, shaking his head, ‘and
that, as you will find, is the great sorrow of life.’
To the second old man, the child said: ‘What shall I come to, if I go
beyond the hills?’
‘You will come back to this very place in time,’ he answered,
mournfully, ‘and that is the saddest thing in the world.’
The child turned to the third old man, who was sighing deeply, and
asked: ‘Why are you so sad?’
‘We are sad,’ said the third old man, ‘because the vanishing years have
taught us wisdom, and we know all things. But you, being young, know
nothing.’
And the three old men shook their heads in unison and hobbled away.
The child stood still and puzzled for a moment. Then it said to itself:
‘They did not answer those questions properly. They are wrong, but I do
not know why.’
Then seeing a butterfly, the child ran after it, shouting with glee.