The Alchemist Read Online Free PDF Page B

treasure, you will have to follow the omens. God has prepared a path for everyoneto follow. You just have to read the omens that he left for you.”

    Before the boy could reply, a butterfly appeared and fluttered between him and the old man. He remembered something his grandfather had once told him: that butterflies were a good omen. Like crickets, and like grasshoppers; like lizards and four-leaf clovers.
    â€œThat’s right,” said the old man, able to read the boy’s thoughts. “Just as your grandfather taught you. These are good omens.”
    The old man opened his cape, and the boy was struck by what he saw. The old man wore a breastplate of heavy gold, covered with precious stones. The boy recalled the brilliance he had noticed on the previous day.
    He really was a king! He must be disguised to avoid encounters with thieves.
    â€œTake these,” said the old man, holding out a white stone and a black stone that had been embedded at the center of the breastplate. “They are called Urim and Thummim. The black signifies ‘yes,’ and the white ‘no.’When you are unable to read the omens, they will help you to do so. Always ask an objective question.
    â€œBut, if you can, try to make your own decisions. The treasure is at the Pyramids; that you already knew. But I had to insist on the payment of six sheep because I helped you to make your decision.”
    The boy put the stones in his pouch. From then on, he would make his own decisions.
    â€œDon’t forget that everything you deal with is only one thing and nothing else. And don’t forget the language of omens. And, above all, don’t forget to follow your Personal Legend through to its conclusion.
    â€œBut before I go, I want to tell you a little story.
    â€œA certain shopkeeper sent his son to learn about the secret of happiness from the wisest man in the world. The lad wandered through the desert for forty days, and finally came upon a beautiful castle, high atop a mountain. It was there that the wise man lived.
    â€œRather than finding a saintly man, though, our hero, on entering the main room of the castle, saw a hive of activity: tradesmen came and went, people were conversing in the corners, a small orchestra was playing soft music, and there was a table covered with platters of the most delicious food in that part of the world. The wise man conversed with everyone, and the boy had to wait for two hours before it was his turn to be given the man’s attention.
    â€œThe wise man listened attentively to the boy’s explanation of why he had come, but told him that hedidn’t have time just then to explain the secret of happiness. He suggested that the boy look around the palace and return in two hours.
    â€œâ€˜Meanwhile, I want to ask you to do something,’ said the wise man, handing the boy a teaspoon that held two drops of oil. ‘As you wander around, carry this spoon with you without allowing the oil to spill.’
    â€œThe boy began climbing and descending the many stairways of the palace, keeping his eyes fixed on the spoon. After two hours, he returned to the room where the wise man was.
    â€œâ€˜Well,’ asked the wise man, ‘did you see the Persian tapestries that are hanging in my dining hall? Did you see the garden that it took the master gardener ten years to create? Did you notice the beautiful parchments in my library?’
    â€œThe boy was embarrassed, and confessed that he had observed nothing. His only concern had been not to spill the oil that the wise man had entrusted to him.
    â€œâ€˜Then go back and observe the marvels of my world,’ said the wise man. ‘You cannot trust a man if you don’t know his house.’
    â€œRelieved, the boy picked up the spoon and returned to his exploration of the palace, this time observing all of the works of art on the ceilings and the walls. He saw thegardens, the mountains all around him, the