A man once found himself torn between two women—his devoted wife and his captivating mistress. Trapped in the storm of his own desires, he felt restless and unsettled, unable to decide which path to take. The conflict gnawed at him day and night, until he finally sought out an old sage, a man known for speaking in parables that exposed truths people often spent a lifetime avoiding.

Sitting across from the wise man, the troubled husband spoke with a heavy heart.
“Tell me, wise one… should I stay with my wife, or should I choose my mistress?”

The sage listened in silence. He neither judged nor interrupted. Instead, he rose slowly and disappeared into the next room. Moments later, he returned carrying two small clay pots. In one grew a vibrant red rose, its petals full and fragrant. In the other stood a modest green cactus, plain and thorny.

Placing them gently before the man, the sage asked,
“If you had to choose one of these to take home, which would you choose?”

The answer came without hesitation. The man’s eyes lit up as he pointed to the rose.
“Obviously, I would take the rose. It is beautiful, fragrant, and pleasing to look at.”

The wise man smiled faintly and shook his head.
“And so,” he said softly, “you have already revealed your heart. You acted on impulse, enchanted by surface beauty, blind to the deeper value of what endures. You deserve neither the rose nor the cactus.”

The man frowned, confused by the rebuke. Seeing this, the sage continued, his voice calm but cutting through the air like a blade of truth.

“Some men are easily swayed by beauty and shallow allure. A rose blooms brightly, but it wilts quickly. It demands constant care, admiration, and protection, yet it cannot withstand hardship. A cactus, though plain and even painful to touch at first glance, survives every season. It endures scorching heat, long neglect, and harsh storms. And one day—rarely, unexpectedly—it blooms into something unforgettable.”

He leaned forward, his eyes both kind and unyielding.
“Your wife has seen your worst days—your failures, your fears, your broken moments—and she stayed. She knows the man you are when there is no applause, no charm, no mask. And she loves you still. Your mistress sees only what you choose to show her—your confidence, your laughter, your best angles. She loves the illusion, not the man beneath it.”

The words settled heavily between them as the sage continued,
“When life turns cruel and shadows grow long, it will not be your mistress who remains. She will move on, chasing another brightness. But your wife—she will sit beside you in silence, hold your hand when there are no answers, and stand firm when the world has stripped you bare.”

The man’s eyes began to glisten. A guilt he had buried for years slowly surfaced, tightening his chest. The sage spoke one final time, his voice low and resolute.

“By choosing the rose and dismissing the cactus, you have shown that you do not yet understand the nature of true love. Beauty fades. Passion cools. Time takes everything it is owed. And one day, the cactus you overlooked may no longer be there. Only then will you understand its worth—but by then, my son, it may be too late.”

The man left without another word, the weight of that truth pressing heavily upon him. For the first time, he truly saw what he already had—and what he stood to lose.

One of life’s greatest lessons is this: cherish what endures, before it disappears forever.