One
day a saint was taking a bath in a river. His disciple sat
on the bank with the saint's clothes, asana and rosary. The
saint noticed a scorpion struggling in the current. Taking
pity, he lifted the bedraggled scorpion in his palm and started
wading toward the bank.

No sooner had the scorpion recovered than it
promptly stung the saint on the palm. The saint felt an unbearable,
burning pain shoot up his arm, but he did not drop the scorpion.
Instead, he gently shook his hand to encourage the scorpion
to move away from the wound.

The saint's disciple, watching from the bank,
became alarmed, but did not say anything.

The saint had only taken a few more steps when
the scorpion stung him again. A searing pain more intense
than the first one went all the way up his armand throbbed
in his hand. The saint staggered and nearly collapsed in the
river.

This time the disciple did call out. "Put
him down, guruji! He will only sting you again. Leave him
to his fate. Your kindness is of no value to such a creature.
He will learn nothing from it!"

The saint ignored him and continued walking.
He had nearly reached the bank when the scorpion stung him
for a third time. The pain exploded into his head, lungs,
and his heart. The disciple saw a blissful smile appear on
the saint's face before he collapsed in to the river. The
disciple dragged the saint to the shore, still smiling and
still cradling the scorpion in his palm. As soon as they had
reached shore, the scorpion crawled away as quickly as it
could.

"Guruji!" said the disciple after
the saint had regained