Thinking Out of the Box

In a small Italian town, hundreds of years ago, a small business owner owed a large sum of money to a loan-shark. The loan-shark was a very old, unattractive looking guy that just so happened to fancy the business owner’s daughter.

He decided to offer the businessman a deal that would completely wipe out the debt he owed him. However, the catch was that we would only wipe out the debt if he could marry the businessman’s daughter.

Needless to say, this proposal was met with a look of disgust.

The loan-shark said that he would place two pebbles into a bag, one white and one black.

The daughter would then have to reach into the bag and pick out a pebble. If it was black, the debt would be wiped, but the loan-shark would then marry her. If it was white, the debt would also be wiped, but the daughter wouldn’t have to marry the loan-shark.

Standing on a pebble-strewn path in the businessman’s garden, the loan-shark bent over and picked up two pebbles.

Whilst he was picking them up, the daughter noticed that he’d picked up two black pebbles and placed them both into the bag.

He then asked the daughter to reach into the bag and pick one.

The daughter naturally had three choices as to what she could have done:

Refuse to pick a pebble from the bag.

Take both pebbles out of the bag and expose the loan-shark for cheating.

Pick a pebble from the bag fully well knowing it was black and sacrifice herself for her father’s freedom.

She drew out a pebble from the bag, and before looking at it ‘accidentally’ dropped it into the midst of the other pebbles. She said to the loan-shark;

“Oh, how clumsy of me. Never mind, if you look into the bag for the one that is left, you will be able to tell which pebble I picked.”

The pebble left in the bag is obviously black, and seeing as the loan-shark didn’t want to be exposed, he had to play along as if the pebble the daughter dropped was white, and clear her father’s debt.

Moral: It’s always possible to overcome a tough situation throughout of the box thinking, and not give in to the only options you think you have to pick from.

In a small Italian town, nestled between olive groves and cobblestone alleys, lived Enzo, a humble cobbler known for the quality of his leather and the depth of his debts. Years ago, he had borrowed a large sum from a notorious loan-shark named Signor Bellandi—an old, crooked man with yellowed teeth and eyes like muddy puddles. Time had passed, but the debt remained unpaid, and Bellandi had grown impatient.

“You know I am a fair man,” Bellandi rasped one afternoon, as he stood in Enzo’s shop, surrounded by the smell of waxed leather and desperation. “I’ll forgive the debt. Entirely. But only if you allow me to marry your daughter.”

Enzo’s heart sank. His daughter, Isabella, was the light of his life—smart, kind, and with a spirit as fierce as any tempest. Marrying her off to Bellandi felt like trading the sun for a candle.

Isabella, standing behind the counter, didn’t flinch. “And if I refuse?”

“Then your father’s debt will be collected… forcefully,” Bellandi sneered.

But Isabella had the mind of a strategist and the heart of a lion. “Let’s make it fair,” she proposed. “A game.”

Bellandi raised a brow. “I’m listening.”

“There’s a path just outside the town, lined with white and black pebbles. Tomorrow, in front of witnesses, you will place two pebbles in a small bag—one black, one white. If I draw the black pebble, I’ll marry you and the debt is cleared. If I draw the white pebble, the debt is cleared, and I go free.”

Bellandi chuckled. “Agreed.”

The next morning, half the town gathered by the path, whispering among themselves. Bellandi bent down, pretending to pick one white and one black pebble. Isabella, who had sharp eyes, noticed something troubling: both pebbles he’d picked were black.

He dropped them into the bag and held it out with a twisted grin. “Go ahead, dear.”

Without hesitation, Isabella reached into the bag and swiftly drew a pebble—but before anyone could see it, she "accidentally" dropped it into the sea of pebbles at her feet.

“Oh, how clumsy of me,” she said. “But no matter! We can simply look at the one remaining pebble to determine which one I picked.”

The crowd gasped as Bellandi’s face turned the color of storm clouds. There, in his trembling hand, was a black pebble—the same color as the one Isabella had "drawn." Which meant, by logic, hers must have been white.

The townspeople murmured in admiration. Bellandi, outwitted and shamed in front of all, had no choice but to cancel the debt and retreat.