A huge crowd had gathered outside a house. Some in the crowd were sobbing, some were telling beads of rosaries and others were standing in a corner with their eyes stuck at the house.
More and more people were joining in and becoming a part of the crowd. Some new faces tried to reach the door of the house but in vain. It was quite difficult to make a way through the huge crowd.
His body was there on a bed, surrounded by a number of people. Perhaps he was some popular and wealthy person. Or he must have been a famous personality.
"Yes, he was undoubtedly an affluent person but in a different sense," said my father, narrating the story further.
His wealth was inexhaustible and so was his fame. I looked at him puzzled. He was a man who acquired no physical possession but gained on relationships immensely. He was a simple man who had only built relationships throughout his life.
He came forward for anyone who required help. He lent support to even those who were complete strangers. He never wished to become rich in a material sense but helped everyone without much thinking.
Had he been a rich man, loved ones would have wailed for some time and then his memories would fade away. But there were hardly any relatives in the crowd and the tears' rolling down their cheeks was out of affection.
They had no intention of gaining something from the ailing man, but wanted to pay their tribute to the man who came for their aid without any hesitation.
He might not be a rich person, but he had earned a lot in terms of love of many. Most of us think that whatever we possess is our wealth, but we simply pay no heed to the real wealth, wealth of love and care.