One day Nasreddin Hodja was working in his little watermelon patch. When he stopped for a break, he sat under a walnut tree and pondered.
`You Sublime Allah,' he said, `it's your business, but why would you grow huge watermelons on weak branches of a vine, and house little walnuts on a strong and mighty tree?' And as he contemplated such, one walnut fell from the tree right onto his head.
`Great Allah,' he said as he massaged his bruised head, `now I understand why you didn't find the watermelons suitable for the tree. I would have been killed if you had my mind.'
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