The happy new mother asked, “Can I see my baby?” When the little one was nestled in her arms and she looked at his face, she, however, gasped. The baby had been born without ears.
The boy grew up to become a favourite with his fellow students, and also developed a talent for literature and music. Could nothing, however, be done, his parents thought and consulted a doctor. “I believe I could graft on a pair of external ears, if they could be donated,” the doctor decided.
The search then began for a person who would make such a sacrifice for a young man. Two years went by. “You are going to the hospital, son. Mother and I have someone who will donate the ears you need. But it’s a secret,” said the father one day. The operation was a success, and a new person emerged. His talents blossomed into genius, and school and college became a series of triumphs.
The married man and employed in the diplomatic services one day urged his father to reveal the donor. “Who gave so much for me? I could never do enough for him.”
“I do not believe you can,” said the father, “but the agreement was that you are not to know…not yet.” The years kept their profound secret, but the day did come. As he stood with his father over his mother’s casket, the father slowly stretched forth a hand and raised the thick, reddish-brown hair to reveal that the mother had no external ears. “Mother said she was glad she never let her hair be cut,” he whispered gently, “and nobody ever thought mother to be less beautiful, did they?”