How bad is Very bad?

Long ago in a little village in ancient China lived a very old man and his one son. The man was very poor. He lived in a small shack on his tiny plot of land. His son was his pride and joy, as well as his only hope of care in his old age. An old work horse was his most valued   possession,   since it pulled the plough and also the wagon to take crops to market.

One day the horse ran away. When the villagers heard about it, they came to lament the man’s poor fortune. “Oh! This is bad-VERY BAD!”, they mourned.

The old man looked up from his bench outside his door and responded, “How do you know it’s bad?”

Time passed.  Now the son had to pull the plough himself and the wagon as well. Work was harder and they struggled more than ever to survive. 

Then one day their horse returned home bringing with him a whole herd of wild horses! The son was able to corral many of them. Now the neighbours came to rejoice in the man’s good fortune, for horses were a measure of wealth.

The son spent many days breaking in the horses, training them and preparing them for sale. One day a horse threw him off its back and the son broke his leg. Soon the townsfolk   heard of it and came to grieve with the old man,

“Oh, this is bad, VERY BAD! This is so very bad!” And the old father just looked up and asked them, “How do you know it’s bad?”

A few weeks later, while the son’s leg was still healing in a splint, a detail of Chinese War lords rode thundering  into town. They took with them ALL of the young men of the village-except, of course, the son with the broken leg. None of those young men ever returned.