The Shop of Wishes (A Parable)

          In a quiet corner of the Universe, there was a little shop. Its signboard had long been gone—blown away by a hurricane years ago. The owner never bothered to replace it because every local knew what the shop sold: wishes.

          The shop’s assortment was vast, offering practically anything you could dream of: massive yachts, apartments, marriage, a vice president's post in a corporation, wealth, children, a dream job, a beautiful figure, winning a competition, luxury cars, power, success, and much more. The only things not for sale were life and death—those were handled by the head office in another galaxy.

          Anyone who entered the shop (because, let's be honest, some people just stayed home, wishing and never venturing inside) would first find out the price of their wish.

          The prices varied. For example, a dream job cost giving up stability and predictability, learning to plan and structure your life independently, believing in yourself, and granting yourself permission to work where you want, not where you have to.

         Power came at a higher price: you’d need to abandon some of your principles, develop the ability to rationalize everything, learn to say no, understand your worth (and it had to be high), and allow yourself to say “I” and stand out, regardless of others’ approval or disapproval.

          Some prices seemed unusual. Marriage, for instance, was almost free. But a happy life came at a steep cost: personal responsibility for your happiness, the ability to enjoy life, knowing your desires, letting go of the need to conform to others, appreciating what you already have, granting yourself permission to be happy, recognizing your own value and importance, giving up the “perks” of being a victim, and risking the loss of some friends and acquaintances.

          Not everyone who entered the shop was ready to pay for their wish immediately. Some, upon seeing the price, turned and left at once. Others lingered, lost in thought, counting their resources and pondering where to find more. Some complained about the high prices, asked for discounts, or inquired about sales.

          But there were also those who brought out all their savings and walked away with their cherished wish wrapped in beautiful, crinkling paper. Others in the shop often envied these lucky ones, whispering that they must know the shopkeeper personally and had likely received their wish without any real effort.

          Many people suggested that the shopkeeper lower his prices to attract more customers. But he always refused, insisting that doing so would compromise the quality of the wishes.

          When asked if he feared going out of business, the shopkeeper would shake his head and reply that there would always be brave souls willing to risk change, leave their familiar and predictable lives behind, believe in themselves, and muster the strength and resources to pay for their desires.

          For over a hundred years, a sign had hung on the shop’s door:
          “If your wish isn’t coming true, it’s because you haven’t paid for it yet.”

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