Once upon a time Nasreddin Hodja walked to the house of the mayor of Aksehir. As usual, his many followers walked behind him and they imitated Hodja’s every move. On this particular day, Hodja wore his new turban, a beautiful turban indeed. Naturally, all his followers wore turbans too.

When Hodja arrived at the mayor’s house, the mayor’s servant invited him inside, but he told the followers to wait outside the gate. This they did.

The mayor warmly welcomed Hodja to his home, and Hodja was pleased to see the mayor’s eyes light up at the sight of his turban. “What an exquisite turban,” the mayor said. “I must say I have never seen one quite so beautiful.”

“Thank you, mayor,” Hodja said. “I’ve just bought it.”

The mayor carefully eyed the turban. He loved beautiful things, and Hodja knew he did.

“Hodja,” the mayor said after a moment, “I’d like to buy your turban. How much will you sell it to me for?”

Hodja was silent as he pretended to think about this. At last he said, “I’ll sell it to you for 1,000 gold coins.”

The mayor’s assistant was standing nearby and overheard this conversation. The assistant had been a very successful merchant, and he prided himself on knowing the value of things. “Excuse me for interrupting,” the assistant said, “but I’m afraid 1,000 gold coins is far higher than the market value for this turban. Lovely as it is, Hodja, you’re asking far too much.”

The mayor trusted his assistant. Besides, 1,000 gold coins was a great deal of money, and the mayor did not like to spend money. Still, he wanted that turban. “I must agree with my assistant,” the mayor said, “that sounds too expensive to me.”

Hodja sighed deeply. “Ah, but sir, you must understand. I paid a great deal for this turban. Of course I know there is just one man in the entire universe who has the taste to appreciate something so exquisite. Very few people in this world truly know the value of things. As I tell everyone I meet, if anyone knows the value of the things of this world, it is our mayor, the mayor of Aksehir.”

The mayor was extremely flattered, and without another moment’s hesitation, he called to his banker to bring 1,000 gold coins. He paid Hodja, and Hodja handed over the turban.

As Hodja was leaving, he stopped to whisper to the mayor’s assistant. “Sir, you may know a great deal about merchandise, but there is something you do not know. You do not understand the value of a compliment.”

With that, he hurried outside and began to walk toward the bazaar.

When his followers saw him, they removed their turbans, and once again they walked behind, imitating every gesture and footstep.

As Hodja walked, he stopped every few steps, and his followers stopped too.

Then Hodja shook his hands in the air, and his followers did the same thing.

Then he leaped up in the air and touched his feet.

So did his followers.

And now, as he landed on the ground, Hodja cried, “Hu, hu, hu!”

His followers cried, “Hu, hu, hu!”

Then Hodja walked on, but every few feet he stopped again, shook his hands in the air, leaped up, touched his feet, and as he landed he cried, “Hu, hu, hu!”

So did his followers.

And so a long line of men entered the bazaar. The shopkeepers looked up in confusion as every few steps the men all stopped, shook their arms in the air, leaped up, touched their feet and cried, “Hu, hu, hu!”

But nobody said anything.

There was a stranger in the bazaar that day, and he had never met Nasreddin Hodja. For a long time he simply watched this strange procession, but at last he could not contain his curiosity, and he approached Hodja. “Excuse me, sir,” he said, “may I ask you a question?”

“Of course you may!” Hodja said happily. Hodja was a friendly fellow, and he always welcomed everyone’s questions. “Ask away.”

“What are you doing?” the stranger asked. “And why are all these people imitating you?”

Hodja smiled. “Ah, my friend, you see, I am a wise man. These are my followers who are seeking spiritual guidance. Each one hopes to reach enlightenment.”

This seemed most peculiar to the stranger. He studied the faces of the men, and then he asked, “But sir, how do you know when they have reached enlightenment?”

Hodja laughed heartily. “That is the easy part, my friend. Each morning I count them, and I know that those who have departed have reached enlightenment.”

And so it was that one more man understood the power and wisdom of Nasreddin Hodja.

“TELL ME A STORY 3: Women of Wonder,” the third CD in the audiobook series, is now available. For more information, visit www.mythsandtales.com.