"There is nothing to it. It is really the easiest thing in the world. You need only the patience of a stone and the ears of an elephant."

Tang contemplated the small lizard which was Lao-Tze's companion today. "Lao-Tze, please, I am a slow-witted man. Will you make yourself clearer for me?"

Lao-Tze loved this question. "Of course, my son. Listen carefully. There was a shipwreck, and the sailors were starving on a desert island. One day the captain finally says, 'Look here, boys, you all have to eat, so it's my duty, I'm going to cut off my pecker and you can slice it up among yourselves.' The captain put a gun to his head. The cabin boy, who'd been listening closely, chimes in, 'Wait a minute, Captain, let me stroke it a little before you shoot yourself and we'll have enough for a week.'"

Still staring at the lizard, Tang was silent.

Lao-Tze also looked at the lizard, shook his head, stretched, and spoke loudly. "Before you can speak the language of the trees, you have to learn how to hear it. They speak all the time, even in winter. But their language is quieter than the fall of one snowflake, and slower than the healing of a broken heart."

Tang was very impatient. "I have patience. I spent seven years learning English. I spent fourteen years learning Sanskrit."