Translation:The Man Who Lost a Button/XI.
XI.
[edit]The whole town was astonished.
“He’ll go back to looking at the sky, just as before: self-possessed and self-centered. What use is that treasure for such an odd fellow? He’ll build a tower to the heavens and put one of those tubes on top, the kind you use to look at the moon and stars. He won’t even help his father,” the people said.
But they were mistaken.
The man who found a button first helped his neighbor, old Ante, and the poor family in the cramped, smoke-filled little house. He remembered the hardships he had seen in the homes of the downtrodden while searching for his lost button. And everyone said that he not only knew how to give but also how to recognize true need. He gave away nearly everything, both to his own and to strangers: to those who had pitied him and to those who made fun of him.
He sewed the button that was found onto his coat and took a stroll each evening, his hand resting on his chest. But he no longer was constantly looking at the sky; now he was aware of the earth and its people too. He gave the heavens what was heavenly, and the earth what was earthly.
And every spring, when the bushes turned green and blossomed, he would wander into the thicket on the far side of the hill. Slowly, he would overturn a larger stone, extend both hands, and hold them still, watching as a throng of worms and insects crawled, caressed, and wriggled up his arms. And as birds sang near their nests, he would say, almost playfully:
“Button, small and gray! Button, small and gray!”
Thus spoke my father, looking intently at me.
It was only much later that I came to truly understood what he was trying to tell me.