And a woman spoke, saying, Tell us of Pain.
And he said:
Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.
And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.
Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquility:
For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen,
And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears.

It seems that it is very difficult, even for a man of Kahlil Gibran’s caliber, to forget a deep-rooted, male chauvinistic attitude. I am saying this because the statements that Almustafa is going to make are right in a way – but still they miss something very essential.

Almustafa forgets that the question is raised by a woman, and his answer is very general, applicable to both man and woman. But the truth is that the pain and suffering that women of the world have gone through is a thousandfold more than man has even known. That’s why I say Almustafa is answering the question, but not the questioner. And unless the questioner is answered, the answer remains superficial, howsoever profound it may sound. I would like you to remember again and again: wherever I see that just a small sentence or sometimes just even a word would have made it truer, far deeper, far more compassionate…

The answer seems to be academic, philosophical. It does not have the insight into what man has done to woman – and it is not a question of one day, but of thousands of years. He does not even mention it. On the contrary, he goes on doing the same that the priests and the politicians have been doing always – giving consolation. Behind beautiful words there is nothing but consolation. And consolation cannot be a substitute for truth.

And a woman spoke…

Is it not strange that out of that whole crowd no man asked about pain? Is it just accidental? No, absolutely no. It is very relevant that a woman asked the question:

…Tell us of Pain,

…because only the woman knows how many wounds she has been carrying, how much slavery – physical, mental and spiritual – she has suffered and is still suffering. A woman is hurting in the deepest core of her being. No man knows the depth pain can go into you and destroy your dignity, your pride, your very humanity.

Almustafa said:

Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.