From the series "Wisdoms of the Old Labunishta Residents" The old residents of Labunishta knew how to express a wisdom in a short sentence for which today we need a whole page.

One of those sayings, told with a smile, was: "If you are in the company of the imam, you will either eat something good or hear something good."

At first glance — a simple joke. But behind it lies a beautiful picture of the life of Labunishta in the past. In old times, the imam was not a person that people only saw in the mosque, during prayer, or from the pulpit on Fridays. He was part of the life of his community — present in joys and sorrows, on beautiful days, but also when someone needed advice, comfort, or a kind word.

Sometimes there didn't even need to be a special occasion.

People then visited each other more often. They would visit to ask about health, have coffee, chat, or simply sit together. And the imam visited his parishioners in the same way. He would enter a house, sit with the hosts, ask about the family, the elders, and the children, listen if there was any worry, and say a word if needed.

This way the imam knew his parishioners not only from the rows in the mosque but also from their everyday life. He knew who rejoiced, who mourned, who had worries, and who perhaps just needed someone to listen. And perhaps precisely because of this, his word carried a different weight.

Because advice more easily reaches the heart when it comes from someone who knows both your joy and your trouble. And among the old Labunishta residents, it was a tradition that whenever someone entered the house, the host would offer something to honor them. Coffee, tea, fruit, something sweet, and if it was mealtime — the table would be laid and there would be room for the guest.

Especially if among the visitors was the imam. And if you happened to be in his company, you might also benefit from the hospitality. Hence the first, joking part of the old saying: "... or you will eat something good." But even more important was the second: "... or you will hear something good."

From the imam, more than just casual conversation was expected. Sometimes he would tell an instructive story, mention an ayah or hadith, transmit wisdom from the elders, or simply give good advice. Some of the most beautiful words were said around the table, with a cup of coffee in hand, in calm conversation among people who trusted each other.

The old believed that from every good company a person should leave with something more than they came with. A person does not feed only on what is set on the table. There is food for the body, but there is food for the soul.

A good bite will satisfy you for a few hours, but a wise word you can carry your whole life.

Sometimes you hear it when you are young, but truly understand it much later. Years pass, life puts you before some trial, and the sentence you once heard from a wise Labunishta resident returns to you. That is why the old paid attention not only to what they ate but also to whom they sat with and what they listened to.

They knew that company quietly shapes the person.

With some people, you spend the whole evening laughing and talking, but you return home empty. With others, you sit briefly, hear one sentence — and leave richer.

In this lies the deepest message of this old saying: Good is the person in whose company you find either food for the body or food for the soul. And best is when you find both.

Today, when people visit each other less often without a special reason, this old wisdom reminds us of something else: We should not always wait for some joy, illness, or sorrow to knock on someone's door. Sometimes the person themselves is enough reason for a visit.

To ask how they are, to sit beside them, to listen, and to leave behind a kind word. Perhaps in this was one of the beauties of the former relationship between the imam and his parishioners: he did not always wait for people to come to him — he also went among them.

And that is why the old Labunishta residents said with a smile: "If you are in the company of the imam, you will either eat something good or hear something good."

In this saying remains a small testimony of the time when people visited more, sat together more, and listened to each other more.

And a quiet lesson that holds true even today: Sit with people beside whom you will not only pass the time but with whom you will carry something good with you when you leave their company.

Jakub Kazimoski