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.'