A Classic Tale of the Ages from The Book of Virtue

Once there was an old man who had lost his wife and lived all alone.

He had worked hard as a tailor all his life, but misfortunes had left

him penniless, and now he was so old that he could no longer work for

himself. His hands trembled too much to thread a needle, and his vision

had blurred too much for him to make a straight stitch.

He had three sons, but they were grown and married now, and they were so

busy with their own lives, they only had time to stop and eat dinner

with their father once a week. Gradually the old man grew more and more

feeble, and his sons came to see him less and less: “They don’t want to

be around me at all now,” he told himself, “because they’re afraid I’ll

become a burden.” He stayed up all night worrying what would become of

him, until at last he thought of a plan.

The next morning he went to see his friend the carpenter, and asked him

to make a large chest. Then he went to see his friend the locksmith, and

asked him to give him an old lock. Finally he went to see his friend the

glassblower, and asked for all the old broken pieces of glass he had.

The old man took the chest home, filled it to the top with broken glass,

locked it up tight, and put it beneath his kitchen table. The next time

his sons came for dinner, they bumped their feet against it. “What’s in

the chest?” they asked, looking under the table.

“Oh, nothing,” the old man replied, “just some things I’ve been

saving.” His sons nudged it and saw how heavy it was. They kicked it and

heard a rattling inside. “It must be full of all the gold he’s saved

over the years,” they whispered to one another.

So they talked it over, and realized they needed to guard the treasure.

They decided to take turns living with the old man, and that way they

could look after him, too. So the first week the youngest son moved in

with his father, and cared and cooked for him. The next week the middle

son took his place, and the week afterward the eldest son took a turn.

This went on for some time. At last the old father grew sick and died.

The sons gave him a very nice funeral, for they knew there was a fortune

sitting beneath the kitchen table, and they could afford to splurge a

little on the old man now.

When the service was over, they hunted through the house until they

found the key, and unlocked the chest. And of course they found it full

of broken glass. “What a rotten trick,” yelled the eldest son. “What a cruel thing to do

to your own sons!” “But what else could he have done, really?” asked the

middle son sadly. “We must be honest with ourselves. If it wasn’t for

this chest, we would have neglected him until the end of his days.” “I’m

so ashamed of myself,” sobbed the youngest. “We forced our own father to

stoop to deceit, because we would not observe the very commandment he

taught us when we were young. But the eldest son tipped the chest over

to make sure there was nothing valuable hidden among the glass after

all. He poured the broken pieces onto the floor until it was empty. Then

the three brothers silently stared inside, where they now read an

inscription left for them on the bottom:

HONOR THY FATHER AND MOTHER.

– edited by William J. Bennett