the wise man was wise, but he made mistakes. plenty of them. one day this small child came up to him,wanting to ask questions. "why do they call you wise?" the kid asked, tugging on his sleeves. the wise man looked at him and shook his head, walking over to his bookshelf. "because i'm wise, i suppose." the man said, grabbing a novel before sitting down on his plain grey couch.
the wise man patted the couch as a way to tell the child to sit. the quiet but yet curious kid nodded his head and walked over,sitting down. "does that mean you're smart? that you know everything?" the boy asked, a sudden spark in eyes of idolization.
the man chuckled and looked at the kid." no, it just mean i'm wise, that i know the rightful way to solve a problem without making it worse,ive made plenty of mistakes so don't go mistaking me for a demi-god." the enlightened man answered,once again getting up and headed for his kitchen.
the hope and adoration in the child's eyes suddenly left. he quickly jumped off the couch and followed the man,ready to ask another question. "how do i know if i'm wise?" the tiny boy asked his eyes burning through the knowing man's.
the older man laughed and gave the boy a few treats to eat. "i guess you just know." he said, shutting the cupboard and taking the younger outside.
they both didn't know it at the time but that would be the start of a wonderful friendship
