~ storytime

In that city and in those times and days, there lived a man named Aristides, son of Lysimachus. Aristides had won renown as a statesman and general, a hero of Marathon and Salamis, but he remained a very humble man. He forsook all earthly wealth, choosing to live a life of austerity and discipline, and gave away all he had to the poor; for his great wisdom and generosity, he was known as Aristides the Just.

One day, Aristides was walking through the marketplace when he saw a man standing awkwardly in the street, holding a potsherd in one hand and a nail in the other. He approached Aristides. "Excuse me, kirios," he said, "there is to be a vote of ostracism in the assembly today, but I don't know how to read or write. Could you scratch a name on this potsherd for me?"

"Of course," said Aristides, always happy to help a fellow citizen participate in the democracy he'd spent his life defending. "And what name shall I carve?"

"Aristides," the man replied. "I'd never heard of him before today, but they tell me he's called 'Aristides the Just' and I hate him because I know he thinks he's better than me."

"What was that name again?" Aristides asked, trying to hide his shock and concern.

"Aristedes," the man repeated.