The Tale of Triumph Over Prejudice

In a merchant's house, children from wealthy and noble families gathered one day. The merchant, a well-educated man who had once attended university, had climbed the ladder of success. His father, who began as a simple, honest, and enterprising merchant, had exposed him to books. The merchant's business thrived, multiplying his wealth. He possessed both a kind heart and a sharp mind, but people spoke less about these qualities and more about his vast fortune.

Noble guests, both by title and intellect, as well as some who possessed both attributes and others who had neither, gathered at his house. At that moment, a children's gathering was taking place, and as we know, children don't mince words.

Among the children was a charming but terribly conceited girl. Her servants had taught her to be this way, not her reasonable parents. Her father was a butler, a distinguished position, and she was well aware of it.

"I am the daughter of a butler," she boasted. She could have been the Tartempion's daughter, as one doesn't choose their parents. She told the others that she was "noble" and declared that those not born into nobility would never amount to anything in life, no matter how hard they worked.

"And those whose names end with 'sen' will never succeed in life," she proclaimed. "Whenever you encounter all those 'sen' and 'sen' names, simply place your hands on your hips and keep your distance."

With that, she placed her delicate hands on her hips, her elbows pointed out, to demonstrate how to treat such people. What lovely arms she had! She was truly a charming girl!

The merchant's daughter, however, became furious. You see, her father's name was "Madsen," and it, unfortunately, ended in "sen." She swelled with pride and declared, "Only my father can buy a hundred gold coins worth of sweets and scatter them in the streets! Not yours!"

"That's nothing," bragged the daughter of an editor, "my father can put your father, and your father, and all the fathers in the newspaper! Everyone is afraid of him, my mom says, because he's the one who runs the newspaper."

She lifted her little nose as if she were a real princess who must keep it up high.

At the half-open door, a poor boy watched. His family was so poor that he wasn't even allowed to enter the room. He had helped the cook turn the spit, and, as a reward, he was now permitted to stand behind the door for a moment to watch these noble children, a great honor for him.

"Oh, if only I could be one of them," he sighed.

Then he heard what they were saying, and it was enough to make him hang his head. At his home, they didn't have a single coin in the cupboard, and they couldn't even afford to buy newspapers, let alone write for them. Worst of all, his father's name, and thus his own, ended in "sen," so he would never succeed in life. What a sad affair! But you couldn't say he wasn't born, for he was indeed born, or else he wouldn't be there.

What an evening!

Several years later, the children grew into adults. A magnificent house was built in the city, filled with splendid objects. Everyone wanted to see them, even people from outside the city came to gaze at them. Can you guess which child from our story owned this house? The answer is easy... or maybe not so easy after all. It belonged to the poor boy, because he had become someone, even though his name ended in "sen." His name was Thorvaldsen.

And what about the other three children? The ones filled with pride, be it for their titles, wealth, or intellect? They had nothing to envy one another for because they were all equals. With good hearts and minds, they became good and honorable adults. What they had thought and said as children amounted to nothing more than... child's chatter.