An angel came down from a sky and landed in a town where all kinds of stories were sold. The angels visited the shops, looked at the covers of the books and the book that he like was also the one liked by his sender. He went to a shop keeper and who sold stories of mysticism. The angel was intrigued, and wanted to purchase the story. With the shop keepers was a little boy who worked there and cleaned the books and bookshelves. He whispered into the angel’s ears, “don’t buy stories from him.” The angel asked why? The boy replied, “They sold me a life time of stories that turned out to be a lie and when I found my story that they told me my story was lie. You never know where the book you’ll purchase would be right or wrong. Don’t buy stories from him.”

The angels felt for the boy, he said, “oh dear, life time of stories sold for lie, then what good is your working around here, why do you still work here?” The boy replied, “I clean the shelves to get enough money to support me and myself, my family.” The angel came close to the boy and looked in his eyes, “Oh my dear, you do know who I am?” The boy replied, “I know you are an angel and you are here to buy stories and you pay with prayers for the stories. Then buy stories that will do good to you and sell the prayer that will do good to the sellers of stories.”

“Oh, oh my dear. But that’s true, prayers I give in exchange of stories are only valuable when the stories are true. The worth and value of my prayers depend on truthfulness of the stories I buy, truer the stories, more valueable the prayers.” The boy told the angel, “which sky did you came from?” The angel replied, “I came from the sky where stories matter and where I take the stories, no one else can. You do know my name boy?” The boy replied, “I thought you only used to read stories to the boys, but you are also a buyer of stories.”

The angel replied, “you read well boy, but you don’t look like a seller. Can I buy your life story?” The boy replied, “I haven’t been selling, I am a worshipper now, stories are for the kids. Don’t buy my story, buy a bell.”

The angel left. And searched for a bell in the story town. He recalled the story of Abel and recalled the words of the boy, buy a bell.