Meeting our expectations.

A monk was working in his garden when there approached a weary traveller, slumped in the saddle of a plodding horse. The monk bade him good day, and asked if there was anything he could give him. The traveller demanded a glass of water. As he drank he said, ‘Tell me priest, where is the next village?’<br>‘Half a day’s journey down the valley,’ said the monk.<br>‘Tell me, what are the people like there?’<br>‘What were the people like in the village you’ve come from?’<br>‘They were dishonest, untrusting and untrustworthy, the most miserable bunch of people. I am glad to be rid of them.’<br>‘I’m sorry to tell you,’ said the monk, ‘but I think you’ll find the people in the next village much the same.’<br>The next week the monk was working in his garden when he saw another traveller coming down from the hills, tired dusty but upright in the saddle of his strong horse. The monk bade him good day and asked if there was anything he could do for him.<br>‘A glass of water would refresh me, and perhaps a little for the horse.’<br>As they drank he asked, ‘Tell me father, where is the next village?’<br>‘Half a day’s journey down the valley.’<br>‘And the people there, father, what are they like?’<br>‘First, tell me, what were they like in the village you have left?’<br>‘Ah, they were the most wonderful people. I had only intended to spend a day or two there, but I have spent many months in their kind and hospitable company. I have made many friends there whom I am sad to leave.’<br>‘Do not be too sad,’ said the monk, ‘I think you will find the people in the next village much the same.’<br><br><b>To what extent do we only ever really experience what we expect?</b><br>