The Bitter Plot and the Herbalist’s Wisdom — An Ancient Parable
Long ago, in a small village, there lived a newlywed woman named Mei. She had been married into a family where tradition dictated that a daughter-in-law must serve and respect her husband’s mother above all else. Unfortunately, Mei’s mother-in-law, Madame Lin, was a difficult and demanding woman. No matter how hard Mei tried, she could never please her. Every day, Madame Lin found faults in her cooking, criticized her housekeeping, and constantly belittled her in front of others.
At first, Mei tolerated it, believing that over time, her mother-in-law would soften. But as the months passed, Madame Lin’s behavior worsened. Mei felt trapped, humiliated, and exhausted. She confided in her friends, hoping for advice, but most simply told her to endure it. Eventually, her frustration grew into resentment, and resentment turned into hatred. She could see only one solution—her mother-in-law had to disappear.
Desperate, Mei sought the help of an old herbalist known for his wisdom and remedies. She visited his shop at the edge of the village and explained her plight. “I cannot bear her cruelty anymore,” she confessed, her eyes brimming with tears. “I need a poison that will end her life—slowly and unnoticed.”
The herbalist listened carefully, then nodded. “I understand your pain,” he said, stroking his beard. “But if she dies suddenly, people will suspect you. You need a slow-acting poison, one that works over time.” He handed her a packet of herbs. “These will weaken her gradually. Mix them in her food daily, but you must also be careful. To avoid suspicion, treat her well. Speak kindly, serve her attentively, and show her the respect a daughter-in-law should.”
Mei accepted the herbs eagerly and followed his instructions. Each day, she prepared Madame Lin’s meals with the special herbs, all while treating her with increasing kindness. She greeted her warmly every morning, listened patiently to her stories, and performed her duties without complaint. Weeks passed, then months, and something strange happened—Madame Lin’s attitude changed.
The once harsh woman softened toward Mei. She began praising her cooking, complimenting her efforts, and even defending her in front of others. She shared stories of her youth, her struggles, and her dreams. Mei, in turn, started seeing her mother-in-law in a new light—not as a tormentor, but as a lonely woman who had faced many hardships.
One day, Mei rushed back to the herbalist in distress. “Wise one,” she pleaded, “I have made a terrible mistake. My mother-in-law is not as cruel as I thought. I no longer want her to die! Please, give me something to undo the poison.”
The old man chuckled. “My dear child,” he said, “there was never any poison in those herbs. What I gave you was only a mix of harmless spices. The real change was in your heart. You replaced hatred with kindness, and in doing so, transformed not only her but yourself.”
Mei left the shop with tears in her eyes, grateful for the lesson. From that day on, she and her mother-in-law shared a bond stronger than before, built on understanding and compassion.
