The Named Father

Three brothers were left as orphans—no father, no mother. They had neither a stake nor a yard. So, they set out to wander through villages and hamlets, looking to hire themselves out as laborers. As they walked, they thought, "Oh, if only we could find a kind master!" Suddenly, they saw an old man approaching, very old indeed, with a white beard reaching down to his waist. The old man caught up with the brothers and asked:

"Where are you heading, children?"

And they replied:

"We're looking for work."

"Don't you have a household of your own?"

"No," they answered. "If only we could find a kind master, we would work honestly for him, obey him, and honor him like a father."

The old man thought for a moment and said:

"Well then, you shall be my sons, and I shall be your father. I will make men of you—teach you to live with honor and conscience, but you must obey me."

The brothers agreed and followed the old man. They walked through dark forests and wide fields. As they went, they saw a little house, so neat and white, surrounded by colorful flowers. Near the house was a cherry orchard, and in the orchard was a girl, beautiful and cheerful, like the flowers themselves. The eldest brother looked at her and said:

"If only I could have that girl as my wife! And more cows and oxen!"

The old man said to him:

"Well then, let's go and propose. You'll have a wife, and you'll have oxen and cows—live happily, but don't forget the truth."

They went, made the proposal, and celebrated a merry wedding. The eldest brother became a master and stayed to live in that house with his young wife.

The old man continued on with the younger brothers. They walked through dark forests and wide fields. As they went, they saw another house, a good one, bright and clean. Nearby was a pond, and by the pond stood a mill. A beautiful girl was working near the house—so hardworking. The middle brother looked at her and said:

"If only I could have that girl as my wife! And the mill and the pond as a dowry. I would sit at the mill, grind grain—and be well-fed and content."

The old man said to him:

"Very well, my son, let it be as you wish!"

They went to the house, proposed to the girl, and celebrated the wedding. Now the middle brother stayed to live in the house with his young wife.

The old man said to him:

"Well, my son, live happily, but don't forget the truth."

And they went on—the youngest brother and his named father. As they walked, they saw a poor little house, and a girl came out of it, beautiful but dressed in rags—patch upon patch. The youngest brother said:

"If only I could have that girl as my wife! We would work together—we'd have bread. And we wouldn't forget the poor: we'd eat and share with others."

Then the old man said:

"Very well, my son, it shall be so. But remember, don't forget the truth."

He married the youngest brother off and then went on his way.

And so, the brothers lived. The eldest grew so rich that he built himself new houses, hoarded gold coins—and thought only of how to amass more. As for helping the poor, he never even considered it—he had become terribly stingy!

The middle brother also prospered. He had laborers working for him, while he himself just lounged around, ate, drank, and gave orders.

The youngest brother lived quietly. If there was something at home, he shared it with others; if there was nothing, he didn't complain.

The named father wandered the world for a time, and then he wanted to see how his sons were living, whether they had kept to the truth. He disguised himself as a poor old man and went to the eldest son. He walked around the yard, bowing low, and said:

"Give alms to a poor old man, from your abundance!"

But the son replied:

"You're not that old—stop pretending! If you want something, earn it! I only recently got on my feet. Get lost!"

And yet, his chests were bursting with goods, new houses were built, his shops were full of merchandise, his granaries were full of grain, and he had countless coins. But he gave no alms!

The old man left with nothing. He walked about a mile, climbed a hill, looked back at that estate and all its wealth—and it burst into flames!

Then he went to the middle son. He arrived to find the mill, the pond, and a prosperous household. The son was sitting by the mill.

The old man bowed low and said:

"Good man, give me at least a handful of flour! I'm a poor wanderer, with nothing to eat."

"Sure," the son replied, "I haven't ground enough for myself yet! There are too many of you beggars around—I can't feed you all!"

The old man left with nothing. He walked a little way, climbed a hill, looked back—and the mill was engulfed in smoke and flames!

Finally, the old man went to the youngest son. He lived poorly, in a small but tidy house.

"Good people," the old man said, "give me at least a crust of bread!"

The youngest replied:

"Come into the house, grandfather. We'll feed you and give you something for the road."

He entered the house. The wife looked at him, saw his tattered clothes, and took pity on him. She went to the storeroom, brought him a shirt and pants, and gave them to him. As he put on the shirt, she noticed a large wound on his chest. She sat him at the table, fed him, and gave him drink. Then the husband asked:

"Tell me, grandfather, how did you get that wound on your chest?"

"Well," the old man said, "it's a wound that will soon kill me. I have only one day left to live."

"What a tragedy!" the wife exclaimed. "Isn't there any medicine for it?"

"There is," he said, "but no one will give it, though anyone could."

The husband asked:

"Why wouldn't they give it? Tell me, what is the medicine?"

"It's difficult! If the master were to burn down his house with all his belongings and cover my wound with the ashes from the fire, the wound would close and heal."

The youngest son thought for a long time. Then he said to his wife:

"What do you think?"

"Well," she replied, "we can always build another house, but a good person will die and never be born again."

"Then, if that's the case, take the children out of the house."

They carried the children out and left themselves. The man looked at the house—it pained him to lose his belongings. But the old man's plight pained him more. So, he set the house on fire. It burned fiercely and... vanished. In its place stood another house—white, tall, and beautiful.

The old man stood there, smiling into his beard.

"I see," he said, "my son, that of the three of you, only you have not strayed from the truth. Live happily!"

Then the youngest son recognized his named father and rushed to him, but the old man had vanished without a trace.

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The Named Father

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