Upon attaining enlightenment, a sage who lived in austere simplicity was asked by the devas what he would like as a boon. “Nothing, ” he replied, “I aspire for nothing at all.” But the devas would not accept the refusal. They insisted that he choose something. The solitaire, however, was unyielding. “What can I ask for? I have no desire. I have everything I sought.” But after much angelic insistence, he relented. “Grant me whatever you feel like, ” he said. With the ball firmly in their court, the divine agents pronounced, “Whomsoever you touch will be cured. The dead will regain life, and wilted plants will bloom forth in full health wherever you walk.” “All right, ” the solitaire said, “if you are so generous, be a little kind. Let all that happen with the touch of my shadow instead. I should not be aware of the good I do, lest it make me proud, turning this boon into a curse.”