كُتُر المنيح بيصير قبيح-اللهجة السورية
كان يا ما كان، بحارة شامية، كان في رجال اسمه أبو سليم، معروف بين الناس بقلبه الطيب. أي حدا بيحتاج مصاري، بيساعده. وإذا سيارة حدا تعطلت، بيكون أول واحد بيوقف معه. وإذا مرض حدا، بيترك شغله و بيروح يطمن عليه. أولها، الكل كان بيشكره وبيقول: “الله يجزيك الخير يا أبو سليم.” بس مع الوقت، الناس تعوّدت. صاروا إذا احتاجوا شي، بيتصلوا فيه كأنه واجب عليه. وإذا مرة انشغل أو اعتذر، بيزعلوا منه وبيحكوا عليه: “شو يعني… أول مرة ما بيساعد!” رجع أبو سليم عالبيت وهو مكسور خاطره، فقالت له مرتو: “ليش زعلان؟” قال: “كل عمري عم أحاول أوقف مع العالم، بس حاسس إنهم ما عاد مقدّرين شي.” ابتسمت وقالت: “لأنك عطيت بلا حدود. الناس تعودت، وصار المعروف بالنسبة إلهم شي عادي.” و هنّه كانوا عم يحكوا، سمعهم جارهم العجوز، بيقول : “يا أبو سليم… كُتُر المنيح بيصير قبيح.” سكت أبو سليم وفكر بالكلام. ومن يومها، صح ما بطل يساعد الناس، بس صار يساعد بالعقل. صار يمد إيده للي فعلًا محتاج، ويخلّي كل واحد يتحمل مسؤوليته إذا بيقدر. لأنه عرف إن المساعدة إذا صارت بكل وقت ولكل شي، الناس ما عاد تحس بقيمتها، ويمكن حتى تعتبرها حق إلها. وقبل ما يقوم الجار العجوز، ابتسم وقال: “بتعرف يا أبو سليم… هالمثل بيشبه مثل تاني منسمعه من جارنا الفلسطيني دايمًا: كل شي بيزيد عن حدّه، بينقلب ضدّه. حتى الخير، إذا صار بلا حدود مع ناس ما بتقدّره، ممكن يخليهم ينسوه بدل ما يشكروه.” ومن يومها، صار أبو سليم يعرف إنه الخير بالعقل، حتى يضل معروفه إله قيمة، و يعود إله أثره بقلوب الناس.
Too Much of a Good Thing Can Turn Bad-Syrian Dialect Once upon a time, in a neighborhood in Damascus, there was a man named Abu Salim. He was well known for his kind heart. Whenever someone needed money, he would help them. If someone’s car broke down, he was always the first to stop and lend a hand. If anyone got sick, he would leave his work to visit them and make sure they were okay. At first, everyone thanked him and would say, “May God reward you, Abu Salim.” But as time passed, people got used to his generosity. Whenever they needed something, they would call him as if helping them were his duty. And if he happened to be busy or politely declined just once, they would become upset and say, “So what? This is the first time he hasn’t helped!” Abu Salim returned home that day with a heavy heart. His wife asked, “Why are you so upset?” He replied, “I’ve spent my whole life standing by people, but I feel like they don’t appreciate anything anymore.” She smiled gently and said, “Because you’ve given without limits. People got used to it, and your kindness became something they simply expected.” As they were talking, their elderly neighbor overheard them and said, “Abu Salim… too much of a good thing can become a bad thing.” Abu Salim fell silent and thought carefully about those words. From that day on, he never stopped helping people, but he started helping wisely. He offered his support to those who truly needed it and encouraged everyone else to take responsibility for themselves whenever they could. He realized that when help is available all the time, for everything, people stop valuing it—and may even begin to see it as something they’re entitled to. Before the old neighbor left, he smiled and said, “You know, Abu Salim… this proverb reminds me of another one our Palestinian neighbor always says: ‘Anything that goes beyond its limit turns into its opposite.’ Even kindness, when given without limits to people who don’t appreciate it, can make them take it for granted instead of being grateful.” From that day on, Abu Salim understood that true kindness also requires wisdom, so that his generosity would keep its value and continue to leave a lasting impact on people’s hearts.
