The Tale of the Barrel

Dying, the old father called his five sons and said:

"My children, my final hour has come. Listen to the tale I will tell you before I close my eyes forever. Listen carefully, for I want you to explain its meaning to me."

The sons did not take their eyes off their father. The old man looked at them and began to tell his story:

"In the forest, a great oak tree grew. Acorns rained down from its mighty branches. Its roots reached deep into the earth. Fierce storms assailed it, but the old oak feared nothing. One day, a carpenter came to the forest. He glanced at the oak, rolled up his sleeves, swung his axe, and began to chop the tree. By evening, he had felled the oak to the ground, cut off its branches, and hauled the log to his workshop. There, he made fine planks from it. In the autumn, a cooper came to his workshop. He loaded the planks onto a cart and took them away. In his workshop, the cooper made staves, hoops, and a bottom from the planks, crafting a large barrel. Every autumn, he filled this barrel with young wine and sold it to peasants for weddings, name days, and funerals. He did this until the barrel became weak. But one day, one of the hoops broke. The wine spilled out, and the barrel dried up. When the cooper realized what had happened, it was too late—the staves had come apart and fallen to pieces. The children picked up the hoops and began rolling them down the street, while the mistress burned the staves and the bottom of what was once a sturdy barrel."

"Now, explain this tale to me!" The five brothers pondered, but none of them could unravel their father's story. Then the old father shook his head and said:

"You are still young, and so you are not yet wise. I will explain its meaning to you: the forest with its tall trees reaching for the sky is our state. The barrel is the family, the staves are us, the hoops are harmony, and the wine is joy and a happy life. As long as there is peace and harmony in the family, life will be happy. A house without harmony is a doomed house! Guard the hoops, my children!"

The eldest son leaned down, kissed his father's hand, and replied:

"Thank you, Father, for your wise counsel. We will not forget it as long as we live."

More fairy tales

• The Little Piece of Lime
• Greed Does Not Lead to Good
• Why March Has 31 Days
• The Brave Youth with a Star on His Forehead and His Horned Horse
• The Clever Lad