It is said that on a bridge in a certain city there was a beggar. He could not play the lute, could not sing, did not even know how to write down his tragic situation on paper, scatter it on the ground to expect mercy from passersby.
Every day, he could only squat against the bridge, huddled with his face in his knees, next to his thin legs, an old bowl. Fortunately, people crossing the bridge are very crowded, sometimes people also bring a few silver coins to throw in the bowl.
When night comes, the beggar will return to his abode – a suburban vegetable garden, long abandoned. A ramshackle fence surrounded the abandoned vegetable garden, inside was a dilapidated hut, where the old beggar had sheltered from the cold for several cold winters.
In the vegetable garden, there is a dry well, and by the well there is an old tree. The northeast monsoon came, the city received the first snow of winter. The people on the bridge were very sparse, the old beggar was about to return to rest, when suddenly a small dog came running from nowhere.
The beggar realized this was a great opportunity and trained the dog. Over time, it learned to stand on its hind legs, grabbing begging bowls, and jump back and forth in front of passers-by. So the beggar earns more money.
The beggar suddenly “made fortune”, then took the money to play the lottery. It was impossible to dream that his luck would be so good, and it wasn’t long before he won the jackpot. As if fate so. The beggar bought an abandoned vegetable garden, and from that land built a splendid house, but he still kept the dilapidated hut, the mouth of the well, the old tree stump, and the old fence in the back garden. your home area.
In the beggar’s room, which was full of luxury items, he suddenly became fascinated with collecting antiques, liked to serve long-legged beauties, and liked the surprised and admiring eyes of everyone when he withdrew. There was a large pile of money in the pocket.
The “Beggar Gentleman” began to meet the elite, always carrying his small dog, of course. The matrons enthusiastically supported this hard-working gentleman, and of course no one knew where he came from. The only thing that makes the “beggar gentleman” feel awkward is the small dog, because other upper-class people all raise those precious, purebred dogs!
Until one day, his stubborn puppy bit the ear of a precious female dog, right in the middle of a party. The dog’s owner became enraged, causing the beggar to feel his self-esteem was seriously damaged.
The beggar, now a wealthy man, had grown accustomed to a life of luxury and respect. His home was a mansion, his clothes elegant, and his companions were the high society of the city. But despite the transformation in his fortunes, there remained one thing that still made him uneasy: his little dog.
While the dog had once been a symbol of his survival, a companion through the darkest days of his life, it had now become a source of embarrassment. Among the elite, the little mutt seemed out of place. The guests at his parties kept their distance from the dog, eyeing it with disdain. They were accustomed to the purebred dogs of high society, sleek and polished, the kind that adorned the arms of the city’s wealthiest women.
The turning point came one evening at a lavish party held at the beggar’s mansion. The guests were dressed in their finest attire, sipping champagne and admiring the lavish décor. The beggar, now more confident than ever, was in his element. But as he mingled with the crowd, something happened that shattered his carefully crafted facade.
The little dog, ever faithful and eager to please, darted across the room. It had noticed a beautiful, perfectly groomed dog belonging to one of the city’s most prominent ladies. The little dog, in its excitement, jumped up to greet the purebred, but in doing so, it playfully bit the ear of the expensive dog. The purebred yelped, and the owner, a haughty woman with impeccable manners, let out a shriek of outrage.
The beggar’s face turned red with embarrassment. The room fell silent as the woman glared at him, her dog whining in her arms. The beggar could feel all eyes on him, their judgment cutting through him like a knife. This was not the place for his little dog. The dog, once a symbol of his humble survival, was now a blemish on his newfound reputation.
“I am terribly sorry,” the beggar stammered, trying to recover his composure. He quickly grabbed the little dog by the collar and pulled it away, but the damage was done. The woman was livid, her face flushed with anger. She demanded that the beggar leave the party and take his “wild” dog with him. The atmosphere in the room shifted, and the beggar could feel the cold stares of the other guests.
He left the party feeling defeated, his earlier sense of triumph now replaced with a deep sense of insecurity. As he returned to his mansion, the weight of the situation hung over him. He had worked so hard to change his life, to leave behind the days of poverty and struggle. Yet, here he was, once again reminded of where he came from. The dog that had helped him survive, the dog that had been his loyal companion during his darkest days, had become the very thing that threatened his place among the elite.
That night, as the beggar sat alone in his lavish home, he reflected on the path his life had taken. The house, the wealth, the status—all of it felt empty in the face of the humiliation he had just endured. He looked down at the little dog, now curled up at his feet, and a wave of guilt washed over him.
The dog had never cared about wealth or status. It had never cared about the opinions of others. All it had ever wanted was to be with the beggar, to offer companionship and love. And yet, in his pursuit of a new life, the beggar had allowed himself to become ashamed of the one thing that had truly stood by him through thick and thin.
With a heavy heart, the beggar knew what he had to do. He couldn’t continue living a life that denied the essence of who he was, or the dog that had been his true friend. The dog had been there when no one else was. It had shared in his struggles and had never judged him. It had only ever shown him love.
The next morning, the beggar took the little dog for a walk through the park, just as they had done in the old days when he was still a beggar. They wandered through the streets, unnoticed by the crowds, just a man and his dog. The beggar found a quiet spot beneath a tree, and as he sat down, he looked into the dog’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I shouldn’t have been ashamed of you. You’ve always been there for me, and I’ve let other people make me forget that.”
The dog, as always, nuzzled his hand affectionately. The beggar smiled, feeling the warmth of the dog’s presence. In that moment, he realized that the wealth and status he had acquired meant little without the love and loyalty of the dog who had once shared his life on the streets.
From that day forward, the beggar, now a man of means, no longer sought the approval of the elite. He no longer felt the need to hide his past or the dog that had helped him survive it. He understood that true wealth wasn’t measured in money or status, but in the bonds of love and loyalty.
The dog, once a humble companion, remained by his side as his true partner, reminding him every day of the value of kindness, humility, and the power of genuine connection. The beggar, now a gentleman in both heart and spirit, had learned that the greatest treasures in life were not found in gold or jewels, but in the simple, unwavering loyalty of a dog.
And so, the beggar and his dog lived their days in quiet happiness, far removed from the pretensions of the world, content in the knowledge that they had everything they needed—each other.
