There was once a vast and beautiful valley surrounded by high mountains, dense forests, clear streams and lush green meadows. Fruit-laden orchards flourished in some parts, while others were covered with fertile fields and soft grass. The chirping of birds and the cool breeze filled the valley with life.
The valley belonged to an owner who had settled horses of different colours, sizes and breeds there. White, black, red and brown horses lived in their respective areas. Some were tall and powerful, others small and gentle; some ran swiftly, while others moved slowly.
The owner had allotted separate grazing grounds to every group. Some received land near streams, others close to orchards, and still others in open meadows. There was enough grass, water and space for everyone to live peacefully.
One day, the owner gathered all the horses and addressed them.
“This valley belongs to all of you. You are free to live in your allotted areas, graze, drink water and roam. But remember, freedom does not mean denying others their rights. No horse shall enter another’s pasture to consume its share. No strong horse shall oppress a weaker one. No one shall be injured or treated unjustly. You have all been given an opportunity to live with dignity. Do not turn that opportunity into a source of suffering for others.”
Every horse knew the rules and understood the boundaries of its territory. There was enough for everyone, and no one needed to occupy another’s land to survive. Yet each group chose to live according to its own nature and character.
In one part of the valley lived a large group of white horses. They followed a simple principle: respect the boundaries, consume what belonged to them and leave others in peace. If grass became scarce, they remained patient or searched for alternatives within their own territory.
One white horse once told its companions, “The land given to us is enough. If we begin taking away the rights of others to satisfy our own needs, what difference will remain between us and those who do the same?”
The others agreed and continued to follow this principle.
But another group, the red horses, behaved differently. Many were strong, swift and proud of their power. They frequently crossed their boundaries whenever they spotted greener grass elsewhere. They entered other pastures, ate the grass allotted to other horses and cared little about the consequences.
One day, some red horses approached the white horses.
“Come with us,” a red horse urged. “There is plenty of grass in this valley. Go wherever you please and eat as much as you want.”
The following day, the red horses led them towards the pasture of the black horses, where the grass was fresh and abundant. The red horses immediately began grazing, but the white horses stood aside.
“Come on!” the red horses called. “There is no shortage here.”
One of them mocked the white horses.
“You are strange creatures! You do not even understand your own strength. Only those who know how to take what they want from others can survive. These rules and restrictions will get you nowhere.”
The white horses remained silent and returned to their own pasture.
The red horses interpreted their restraint as weakness. Encouraged by their silence, they began raiding the black horses’ land more frequently. They consumed their grass, drank their water and attempted to drive them away from their own territory.
An elderly black horse finally confronted them.
“This is our pasture. The owner allotted it to us. Who gave you the right to consume our grass and deprive us of our share?”
The leader of the red horses glared at him.
“Rights belong to those strong enough to claim them. If you are weak, how is that our fault?”
The old horse fell silent. He lacked the strength to resist the oppression, but he never accepted that his rightful claim had disappeared.
Time passed, and the seasons changed. Rain fell, the sun shone, fresh grass grew and old grass withered. The white horses continued to respect their boundaries. The red horses, intoxicated by their strength, continued violating the rights of others. The black horses endured injustice but never surrendered their claim to their land.
Then, one day, the owner ordered all the horses to assemble in an open field. No one knew the reason for the gathering. Some arrived calmly, others anxiously, while a few remained confident that their strength would help them overcome whatever awaited them.
When everyone had assembled, the owner announced:
“Now you must proceed to the Second Valley.”
A murmur swept through the gathering. The horses exchanged uneasy glances, wondering what awaited them.
One by one, they were brought before the owner. A great record lay open before him, containing an account of every horse’s conduct in the First Valley. It revealed who had respected the boundaries, who had occupied another’s pasture, who had oppressed the weak and who had refused to violate another’s rights despite having the opportunity.
Nothing had escaped the record.
The leader of the red horses stepped forward confidently. He believed that, as before, he could use clever words to turn the situation in his favour.
The owner asked him, “Did you violate the rights of others in the First Valley?”
“Master, whatever we did was out of necessity. There was plenty of grass everywhere. What harm did we really cause?”
The owner pointed to the record. It documented every occasion when the red horses had driven the black horses from their pasture, consumed their share and mocked their helplessness.
The leader lowered his eyes.
“Master, forgive us. We shall never do it again.”
The owner replied firmly, “In the First Valley, you were given time, freedom and opportunities to correct your mistakes. You chose to misuse them. In this valley, no one’s rights will be denied. Those who did good will receive their reward, while those who oppressed others will face the consequences of their deeds.”
Pointing towards the scales of justice, he declared:
“This is the Valley of Justice. Here, no one’s strength, influence, excuses or denials can alter the truth. Every horse will be judged according to its deeds.”
The leader of the red horses attempted to speak again, but the owner showed him the recorded evidence. He had no argument left and no room to deny what he had done.
Next, the white horses were called forward. They stood quietly before the owner.
“When you had the opportunity to graze in the pastures of others, why did you refrain?” he asked.
One of the white horses replied, “Master, we believed that you had given everyone enough space according to their needs. Had we used our strength or opportunity to take away the rights of others, we would have become no different from the red horses.”
The owner nodded.
“You, too, had freedom of choice. You could have crossed the boundaries, but you chose not to use your freedom to cause suffering to others.”
Finally, the black horses were summoned. Their elderly leader stepped forward and bowed his head. His eyes carried the painful memories of deprivation, humiliation and helplessness—the days when he had been treated like a stranger in his own pasture.
The owner asked him gently, “Have you forgotten what happened to you?”
“No, Master,” the old horse replied. “We endured much. Our grass was taken, our water was consumed and we were driven from our own land. Yet we never surrendered our rightful claims. We continued to believe that one day, justice would prevail.”
The owner looked at him and said, “Your suffering was not proof that your rights had ceased to exist. The strength of your oppressors did not make their actions right, nor did your helplessness make their injustice acceptable.”
And the horses of the valley understood that the First Valley had tested their character, while the Second Valley would reveal the truth of their deeds.

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