When the Hodja came to the mosque one day he noticed an unknown goatherd below the speaker’s podium. The man had walked for three hours to attend the service, leaving his goats up in the mountains. While the Hodja preached he noticed how deeply the man was moved.
As the sermon progressed the goatherd pulled out a rag to wipe the tears flowing down his face. Hodja became more and more inspired, continuing until after a final crescendo, when he sat down. After the service he asked the goatherd what had moved him so deeply about the sermon.
“Oh Hodja, wise man,” replied the man, “last week my best billy goat died. The more I watched you talk, with your beard dangling, the more I thought of my billy goat, and the sadder I became.”