HE refuses to pay!” said my friend shaking my shoulder. “Why?” I asked. “Says he doesn’t have the money!” “Maybe he doesn’t!” I whispered, “Let him be.” “Have you seen his car? It’s bigger than yours or mine,” said my friend. “Give him time,” I said softly, “having a car doesn’t mean you’ve got money in your pocket!” “You’re on to something, aren’t you Bob?” asked my friend suddenly leaning forward. “Yes,” I whispered, “You ever heard the story of Napoleon and the furrier?”
“During Napoleon’s invasion of Russia, a group of Russian Cossacks spotted him and began chasing him through the twisting streets. He a little furrier’s shop on a side alley and cried piteously, “Save me, save me! Where can I hide?”
The furrier said, “Quick, under this big pile of furs in the corner!” And he covered Napoleon up with many furs. No sooner had he finished than the Russian Cossacks burst in the door, shouting, “Where is he? We saw him come in!” Despite the furrier’s protests, they tore his shop apart trying to find him. They poked into the pile of furs with their swords but didn’t find him. Soon, they gave up and left.
After some time, Napoleon crept out from under the furs; unharmed, just as his personal guards came in the door. The furrier turned to Napoleon and said timidly, “Excuse me for asking this question of such a great man, but what was it like to be under those furs, knowing that the next moment would surely be your last?”
Napoleon drew himself up to his full height and said to the furrier indignantly, “How could you ask such a question of me, the Emperor Napoleon! Guards, take this impudent man out, blindfold him and execute him. I, myself, will personally give the command to fire!”
The guards grabbed the poor furrier, dragged him outside, stood him up against a wall and blindfolded him. He heard Napoleon clear his throat and call out slowly, “Ready. . . aim. .!” In that moment, knowing that even these few sensations were about to be taken from him forever, a feeling that he couldn’t describe welled up in him as tears poured down his cheeks. That’s when he heard footsteps approaching him and the blindfold was stripped from his eyes.
Still partially blinded by the sudden sunlight, he saw eyes looking deeply and intently into his own – eyes that seemed to see into every dusty corner of his being. And he heard Napoleon saying softly, “Now you know?” I looked at my friend as I finished the story and I had tears in my eyes, “Lets give him time to pay up,” I said, “I know what it is to be in that situation..!”
