The Zen master and one of his students were looking out the window at the heavy snow that blanketed their monastery and the nearby village. The student, one with many questions for the master, got a quizzical look on his face.

"Master," he asked, "we know that each snow flake is an individual, yet all snow is the same, separate yet one. But Master, does even the snow flake have Buddha nature?"

"Get the shovel," the Zen Master said in reply.

Thinking this response was a koan for him to puzzle over until he could find its true meaning, the student appeared to mull various trains of thought in his head.

"Ah, Master, perhaps not just the snow flake but the shovel that pushes the snow both have Buddha nature."

The Master fixed his gaze upon his student. "No, really, get the shovel. You need to move some snow, dude. Clear me a path to enlightenment, or the main road, whichever comes first."

"I'm thinking the main road will appear first," said the student.

"You initially conceal your wisdom, only to reveal it later," replied the Master.