The Buried Gold
Long, long ago, there lived a poor farmer. He was honest and industrious. From dawn till evening, he toiled in his field and provided for his family. He had three young sons but, alas, they were good for nothing loafers. They whiled their time away, sitting under the tree eating berries, or dozing by the river with their fishing line dangling in the water. Never were they kind and dutiful to assist their hard-working parents. "You've such a good stretch of land. Why don't you lend your arms in tilling it?" asked the neighbors. "Why should we?" replied the eldest, rather annoyed. "Our father works very well by himself and takes care of us. Why should we bother?" Years rolled on and the lads grew up into strong well-built men. Their parents were now too aged and could no longer work as before.
The garden around the house remained untended and was overgrown with weeds and shrubs. "Dear children, both of us have grown old and weak. We can't put in much labor now. Don't idle your hours away. It is high time that you took charge of our piece of land," the old farmer one day pleaded with his sons, tears in his eyes. But the three young men turned a deaf ear to his words and whistled a merry tune. The farmer was, indeed, a very sad man. "What has happened to the young generation? During our times and that of our forefathers, obeying the parents was the first duty of children!" remarked the old man to his wife. "Yes, dear," replied the old woman, "the world has indeed changed, and the people have become more selfish." The farmer fell into a deep reverie. How to bring about a change in his sons was his foremost worry. Gradually the provisions ran out and the family was in the direst need. Greatly worried and troubled, the old man fell very ill.
He called his sons one day to his bedside, and calmly said, "I'm going to die. Tell me, my dear ones, loafers that you are, how're you going to live when I'm no more?" The three sons were shaken out of their wits. They had never imagined that their father, who had till then supported them, would one day die! "Father," they said, anxiety writ large on their faces, "please give us your parting advice. How should we lead our lives?" "Counsel I shall give you no more, for all these years you've paid no heed to them. Instead, I'll share with you a great secret," replied their father in a faint voice. "What is it? Do tell us at once, before it's too late," said the three sons excitedly. "You know," continued the old man quietly, "your mother and I have toiled ceaselessly till the last bit of our strength had been spent. Over the years, little by little, we have saved three pots of gold. But they are buried in our land, I don't remember exactly where. Find them and you'll never know any want and can live happily ever after." With these words, the good old farmer bade goodbye to his sons and breathed his last. It was not before long that the three brothers set out to do their father's bidding and find the three pots of gold.
For the first time in their life, they picked up spades and marched into the field. They began to dig and dig from morning till night for several days at a stretch. But there was no sign of the buried treasure. "Let us now dig around the house. Father might have laid them there," proposed the youngest brother. So the ground near their little dwelling was dug many times, and the thistles and the nettles and the shrubs were all cleared. But they could not find the three pots of gold. Exhausted, they sat down under the shade of a tree and pondered. "Let's dig still deeper. The pots obviously are buried very deep," said the second brother. They agreed and began to dig once more. They dug for a long time, from sunup to sundown. Suddenly, the spade held by one of the brothers struck something big and solid. He beckoned the others, who rushed to the spot, their hearts pounding wildly. Now all three of them toiled very hard and frantically to unearth the object. Alas, what they found were not pots of gold but a large rugged rock! The brothers were, indeed, disappointed. Nevertheless knowing well that their father was not a man to lie, they did not lose hope and started digging again. They worked for many more days, seldom stopping to eat or rest. Three times they had already dug up the entire land and the soil under their spade had become soft and nice. But after all their sweat and toil, they failed to find the treasure.
"Now that we've dug up our land, let's plant some fruit trees," proposed the youngest brother. "That's a fine idea! At least our labors will not have gone in vain," agreed the others. So, the brothers planted fruit trees and grapevines and tended them with love and care. Some years passed and their piece of land turned into a beautiful orchard. Soon, they reaped a rich harvest of ripe juicy fruits. They sold the produce in the market and made handsome profits. As they were returning home, they stopped in their orchard, surveying the lush green trees. Suddenly, the elder brother exclaimed, "Indeed, how right our father was!" "What do you mean?" asked the other two. "What are these if not pots of gold? And haven't they emerged from the soil?" replied the eldest, drawing the attention of his brothers to the trees. "True, true!" agreed the second brother. "Had we struck these pots of gold, we could have spent them in no time. But this gold is inexhaustible!" "Right!" said the youngest. "And how cleverly our father taught us how to find joy in work!"
Moral Of the Story: Hardwork never fails!
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