With Valentine’s Day just around the corner, I dusted off this old story that, while not a true Valentine love tale, to me, perfectly expresses the timeless treasure that is the essence of unselfish love; that, in a world filled with the transitory and impermanent, remains our perpetual font of life’s garnered wishes and riches.
One day, a toiling farmer paused in his work to rest. As he sat on the handle of his plow he fell a-thinking. Fortune had not smiled upon him of late and, as a result, he found himself feeling down-hearted. As he was sinking deeper into his sorrows, he was suddenly startled by a voice coming from just over the hedge.
“Good morning!” said an old woman who was peering at him over the hedgerow. “If you’re wise you will follow my advice.”
“And what is your advice?” the farmer asked.
“Leave your plow and walk straight on for two days. At the end of that time you will find yourself in the middle of a forest, and in front of you there will be a tree towering high above the others. Cut it down, and your fortune will be made.”
Having said these words, the old woman hobbled down the road, saying no more and leaving the farmer wondering. He unharnessed his horses, drove them home, hugged and said good bye to his wife; then taking his axe, started out.
At the end of two days, he came to the tree, and set to work cutting it down. As it crashed to the ground a nest containing two eggs fell from its topmost branches. The shells of the eggs were smashed, and out of one came a young eagle, while from the other rolled a small gold ring.
The eagle grew rapidly larger and larger, till it was of full size; then, flapping its wings, it flew off.
“I thank you, honest man, for giving me my freedom,” it called out. “As a token of my gratitude, take the ring—it is a wishing ring. If you wish for anything as you turn it round on your finger, your wish shall be fulfilled. But remember this—the ring contains but one wish, so think well before you use it.
The farmer put the ring on his finger, and set off on his journey homeward. Night was coming on when he arrived at a small town. One of the first persons he encountered was the local goldsmith. He was standing at the door to his shop. The farmer approached him and, curious to see what the tradesman might think to be the worth of his newfound gold ring, asked his opinion of its value.
The goldsmith looked at it carefully, and handed it back to the farmer with a smile.
“It has very little value,” he said.
The farmer laughed.
“Ah, Mr. Goldsmith,” he replied, “you have made a mistake this time. My ring is worth more than all you have in your shop. It’s a wishing-ring, and will give to me anything I care to wish for.”
The goldsmith felt annoyed and asked to see the ring again.
“Well, my good man,” he said, “never mind about the ring. I dare say you are far from home, and are in want of some supper and a bed for the night. Come and spend the night in my house.”
The farmer gladly accepted and was soon fed and was given a warm bed that soon embraced him into a sound sleep. However, in the middle of the night the goldsmith snuck into the farmer’s bedroom and removed the gold ring from his finger, and put another just like it in its place without disturbing him in the least.
The next morning, the farmer was up early and went on his way, all unconscious of the trick that had been played on him. When he had gone, the goldsmith closed the shutters to his shop, and bolted the door. Then turning the stolen ring on his finger he said, “I wish for a hundred thousand gold sovereigns!”
Scarcely had the sound of his voice died away than there fell upon him a shower of hard, bright golden sovereigns. They struck him on the head, on the shoulders, on the hands. They covered the floor. Presently, the floor gave way beneath the weight, and the goldsmith and his gold fell into the cellar beneath.
The next morning, when the goldsmith did not open the shop as usual, the neighbors forced open the shop door, and found him buried beneath a massive pile of gold coins.
Meanwhile the farmer reached his home, and told his wife of his adventure and of the magic-ring.
“Now good wife,” said he, “here is the ring; our fortune is made. Of course we must consider the matter well; then, when we have made up our minds as to what is best, we can express that very big wish as I turn the ring on my finger.”
“Suppose,” said the wife, “we were to wish for a bigger farm. The land we have now is so small as to be almost useless.”
“Yes,” said the husband, “but, on the other hand, if we work hard and spend little for a year or two we might be able to buy as much as we want. Then we could get something else with the wishing-ring.”
So it was agreed. For a year the man and his wife worked hard. Harvest came, and the crops were splendid. At the end of the year they were able to buy a nice farm, and still have some money left over.
“There, my dear,” proudly proclaimed the man, “we have the land, and we still have our wish.”
“Well, good husband,” said his wife, “now, we could do very well with a horse and a cow.”
“They are not worth wishing for,” said he, “we can get them in the same manner we acquired the land.”
So they went on working steadily and spending wisely as a team for another year. At the end of that time they bought both a horse and a cow. The couple were greatly pleased with their good fortune, for, said they, “Together, we have acquired all of the things we wanted and we still have our wish.”
As time went on everything prospered with the worthy couple. They worked hard, and were happy.
“Let us work while we are young.” They encouraged each other. “Life is still before us, and who can say how badly we may need our wish some day?”
So the years passed away. Every season saw the bounds of the farm increase and the granaries grow fuller. All day long the farmer was about in the fields, while his wife looked after the dairy. Sometimes, as they sat alone at evening time, they would remember the unused wishing-ring, and would talk of things that they would like to have for the house. But they always said that there was still plenty of time for that. And they smiled at each other, and were content.
The farmer and his wife eventually grew old and gray. Then came a day when they both died—and the wishing-ring had not been used. It was still on the farmer’s finger as he had worn it for forty years. One of his sons was going to take it off, but the oldest said:
“Do not disturb it; there has been some secret in connection with it. Perhaps our mother gave it to him, for I have often seen her looking longingly at it.”
Thus, the farmer was buried with the ring, which was supposed to be a wishing-ring, but which, as we know, was not, though it brought the old couple more good fortune and happiness than all the wishing in the world could ever have given them.
The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart. — Helen Keller
Have an AWE-full Weekend!
William “Bill” Bacque