A much revered, very wise, aged head monk and martial arts master is on his deathbed. His students are gathered for the deathwatch, arranged with the smartest of the students at the masters head, the next smartest second, and so on, down to the pitied dunce of the class at the foot of the bed.

As it became increasingly apparent that the old master was soon to depart, his best student leaned over and whispered, “Before you leave us, could you please, finally give us THE secret of life itself, great master teacher, Sir? 

After a few moments of thought, with considerable effort, the master managed to call out, “Life is like a river.” 

The honored student turned to the one next to him and said, “The master said ‘life is like a river.’ Pass it down.” And so each student in turn passed the wisdom down to the next. But the dunce said, ‘Hey, wait a minute. Life is like a river? What does that mean? Ask him what he meant by that.” 

Ashamed and tentative, each student passed the question back up the line. The best student again leaned over and said, “I’m sorry, master teacher, but the dunce down at the end, he does not understand. He wants to know: what do you mean? – life is like a river.” 

With every ounce of strength remaining in his dying, frail body, the wise old master teacher managed these last words: “Okay, so it’s not like a river.”