That's Just How It Goes, I Guess?
An old man was trekking through the desert with his donkey when he stumbled into a parched little village. The kind folks welcomed him with open arms—fed him, fed his donkey, even poured him a glass of camel milk (which, let’s be honest, tastes exactly like it sounds).
Curious, he asked why there was no water to drink, and the townsfolk explained: the village hadn’t seen a drop of rain in years. Every last bit of water went to their crops. He nodded thoughtfully and said, “Well, I might just be able to fix that. But I’ll need a big bucket of water first to make it happen.”
The whole town pitched in, giving up every precious drop they had until they scraped together one full bucket. The old man took it into his host’s house, closed the door, and moments later, a kid peeked through the window and let out a yelp.
Everyone rushed over and found the man calmly washing his dusty old clothes and hanging them out to dry.
Outraged, the village chief shouted, “You selfish old man! You used our last water just to wash your laundry!”
But before they could drag him out by the collar, the skies suddenly turned gray. Thunder rolled. And then—rain. A steady, soaking, glorious downpour that lasted five whole days.
As the villagers danced in puddles and refilled their empty barrels, the old man became their hero. Even the chief offered him an apology and a dry towel.
Before the man packed up his donkey to leave, the same curious kid tugged his sleeve and whispered, “How did you really make it rain?”
The old man winked and said, “Son, every time I hang my laundry out to dry… the sky just can’t resist.”
