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excerpt What happened, happened; had it not happened, there would be no story to tell. Once, there was a man, who was so rich that he lost count of his riches. He had such a large courtyard that seven times seven carts pulled by oxen could move in circles, and surrounding

Once there was an old woman and an old man. The old bag had a hen and the old man, a rooster; the woman's hen laid eggs twice a day and the hag would eat a barrel of eggs; and to the greyhead she would give none. One day, the old man lost his temper and spoke:Old woman,

In the days of old, when the people of today were just the project of a distant future, when God Himself trod with His sacred feet the rocky deserts of the earth – in those old times there was a king, gloomy and pensive as the dark midnight, and he was married to a young

One day Nassredin the Hajji, down a lane and past a rail,Walking, caught in so much wonder one rich sight, beyond the pale:In a rich man's yard an ass foal gaudily bedecked was, all,Clad in very gaudy harness gold embroidered and preparing for a day's big festival

Once upon a time, Pacala was sitting near a forest and was thinking what to do next. As he looked on the road, he saw a carriage coming towards him. Quickly, he got up, picked up a wood block and raised it in the air. In the carriage there was a lady and the coachman who

Pacala has been a movie hero since as early as 1915. The most recent film, on a much lighter note than the story above, is Pacala's Return, or Pacala 2 (2006), directed by Geo Saizescu (who also directed Pacala, 1974 - click here to see preview), and subject to harsh

God gets along better with little children, because a little one's soul is roomier. A grownup's soul is so crowded with evils that there is no place to stay. (aged 10) by student in The Zaica Experiment

The girl, when she was still with us, used to see angels.  But there are no angels!Who sees angels! Oh, wax doll!The priest nodded his head,the small black dog barked, barked,the woman in mourning wailed,and a grave gentleman wept into his palmswhen he looked at the wax

In 1982, with a thorn in my heart and my three-year-old son by the hand, I was calling on our the pediatrician-psychiatrist: in defiance of everyone around me, who did not believe my worries were well-grounded, I wanted to find out why my child was acting so strangely, why

I was walking through the campus on a sunny September morning, which was calm, fresh, with a deep blue sky, like then. Then, just as now, the dew that fell during the night on the grass sparkled coldly and delicately. The sun was strong and gentle. Through the pure air passed,

excerpts  PROMISES  Those of us who looked after the severely ill, close to their end in hospitals or foster homes made a lot of promises to them. Some asked for the impossible, namely to save them from death, but most of them only wished not to die alone and, above all,

In the Balkans full of various mythologies, it is said that nobody can move faster than angels[1] when it comes to passing from one human being to another, thus populating the earth. Yet angelic beings are not among the early manifestations of our national imagery. Romanians