The Camel I’d quit the seminary. My face looked like a gun. "What troubles you, my son? What’s all this gloom?" A priest had come to my room. "Persevere. Persevere." "Dear Father," I said, "Enough good cheer. Look at my country. Why is it So poor? No place is worse. What sins did we commit? "Easy, my son," he answered. "Poverty is not a curse. Think of Jesus’ words: A camel will pass through a needle’s eye Before a rich man will enter heaven." "Dear Father," I said again, Don’t you see? The Lord should let us be rich and die. We would set a good example For the camel, our national symbol."