Land of the pot of gold
The old farmer was ailing. He wanted his three sons to come closer to
him and listen to what he was waiting to tell them.
"Now I am too old to farm the land. But I want you to take hold of
what I was doing all my life." Said the old farmer in his feeble voice.
The three sons were too busy to hear what their father wanted to say.
"Are you all impatient to give me a hearing?" Asked the father.
"No, we have come here to listen to you, dear father." Said the
eldest son, a clerk in a state ministry.
"I am happy that my eldest son has come to see me. But I thought you
will do a better job as a farmer. Never mind, you are still too young.
You may become one in future, I am sure."
Then the chance came for the second son.
"Dear father I have also come to see you."
"Oh I am quite happy to see you here."
The second son was a driver serving for a businessman in the city.
"One fine day you are going to be a farmer like your father." Said
the ailing father of the second son, who was eagerly waiting to hear
what he has to say.
"Where is my youngest son?"
"I am here."
"Oh, how nice to see you."
The youngest son was jobless. He also failed to continue his higher
studies due to his own fault. He was hanging around with a group of
youngsters who were merrymakers all the time.
They had ample time to enjoy with music, dance and other forms of
entertainment. "I am sure you are going to be a better citizen one fine
day." The ailing father touched his son's hands.
"You are the youngest in the family. You got to help yourself as well
as your brothers." All the three sons were waiting to hear what their
father is going to say.
"Why did you call three of us here so suddenly, father?" Asked the
eldest son.
"Do you know I have a small plot of land untilled so far?"
The three sons looked at the faces of each other not quite getting
the message. The father carried on.
"The small plot of land lies closer to the stream flowing at the
border of our land. It is called Randeniya. If you start tilling there -
it has fertile soil too - one fine day you will come across a big pot of
gold buried. But you got to be very careful not to utter a word to
anybody else. Start tilling the soil soon after I pass away. Do you hear
me out?"
"Yes father," they all said in a single tone.
"Listen to me carefully, I may not be able to say this again."
"We are listening." The sons said.
"I want you to till the land all by yourself without whispering a
single word of what I say. There will be a number of elder farmer, they
will come to your help. Get their help as much as you can. Help yourself
and help them whenever possible. When you get the pot of gold, make sure
you share it among yourselves and continue the work you started."
The three sons looked determined to start the tilling of the land as
soon as possible. As time passed, the father died. They performed all
the funeral rituals in the best possible manner. The eldest son called
his two brothers.
"Now we must start work on what our father said. We must not waste
time."
They started tilling the land. The villagers were simply surprised
and wanted to help them. They simply could not understand how they have
come to do the work so suddenly.
"It is the wish of our father," said the eldest, responding to
villagers.
"Oh your father was a great farmer." Said some of the elderly
villagers.
"He never had his barn empty." Said another.
As time passed, they came to know the value of the earth. They
cultivated the land with grains and yielded a harvest.
"What about the pot of gold? We never found it." Said the eldest.
"We have got more wealth than a just a pot of gold." Said the second
brother.
The youngest nodded his head and said: "Perhaps this land itself is
the pot of gold. It is named Randeniya, the golden dale." |