The Greedy Brother

The Greedy Brother

Long ago, two brothers lived in a far northern land. The older brother was not wealthy. Each day he went to the forest for dry branches and fragrant herbs, carried them to market, and sold them for a few coins. The work was hard, but he knew how to be glad for small things. If there was rice for supper, a fire in the stove, and a peaceful evening beside his wife, he would say, “Then it has been a good day.” The younger brother lived very differently. His storehouses were full of grain, his chests held cloth and jewels, and his table was covered with food almost every night. Yet the more he had, the more he feared sharing even a crumb. One day, the younger brother held a grand feast. He invited rich neighbors, merchants, friends, and even people he barely knew. But he did not invite his older brother. When the older brother learned of the feast, he was deeply sad. “Is my own brother ashamed of me only because I am poor?” he asked quietly. His wife sat beside him. “Do not let another person’s pride decide your worth,” she said. “Go for a walk. It is easier to hear your own thoughts in the forest.” The older brother took his axe and rope and went into the mountains. He walked a long way until he reached a stream beneath a high cliff. There he heard strange music. Behind the rocks danced dakini, magical beings of the sky. Their light robes floated like little clouds, and their laughter rang like bells. One dakini took an old cloth bag and a small hammer from a crack in the rock. She tapped the hammer lightly against the bag. Tap, tap! Out came platters of rice, sweet fruit, flatbreads, nuts, and jugs of drink. The dakini ate. Then they tapped the bag again, and this time bracelets, necklaces, and shining stones poured out. They decorated themselves, hid the bag and hammer back in the cliff, and flew away. The older brother stood silently for a long time. “If only I had such a bag for one day,” he whispered. “I would ask only for what we truly need.” He climbed to the crack, carefully took out the bag and hammer, and went down again. “I will try it once,” he said. Tap, tap! Warm bread, rice, and a basket of fruit appeared before him. The older brother laughed with amazement. At home, he showed the wonder to his wife. Together they asked for a strong roof instead of their leaking one, a few good things for the house, seed for a field, and enough food that they would not fear winter. Then they stopped. “That is enough,” said his wife. “When we have what we need, it is better to give thanks than to keep asking forever.” From then on, they lived peacefully. The older brother continued to work, but he no longer had to worry every day about whether there would be supper. And when a neighbor lacked grain or someone’s roof leaked, he gladly helped. News soon reached the younger brother. “How did he suddenly begin living better?” he wondered. “Yesterday he was selling bundles of wood, and today he helps other people!” He called his older brother and began to question him. At first, the older brother did not want to speak about the magical bag, but the younger would not stop. “Show me the place,” he demanded. “If you found one wonder there, there must be ten more!” “Do not go there for gain,” warned the older brother. “In that place, it is easy to forget how much you truly need.” But the younger brother was no longer listening. The next morning, he took the largest sack he could find. Then he put another sack inside it, and a third inside the second. “So I will not have to make two trips,” he told himself. When he reached the cliff, the dakini had just returned. They saw the stranger searching around their hiding place. “What are you looking for?” one asked. “Nothing,” the younger brother answered quickly, although he held three empty sacks. “How strange,” said another dakini. “People looking for nothing rarely bring so many bags.” The younger brother blushed, but did not want to retreat. “I know about the magic hammer! Give me one like it. Better yet, give me two.” The dakini looked at one another. “Very well,” said the eldest. “You will receive a test of knowing enough.” She touched his belt with one finger. The long festival belt stretched by itself and tied itself into nine tight magical knots. “Each knot is one extra ‘more,’” she explained. “More gold. More jewels. Another sack. More than your neighbor. When you learn to say ‘enough,’ the knots will come undone.” The younger brother pulled at the belt, twisted it, complained, and grew angry, but the knots would not loosen. He returned home in no happy mood. His wife was surprised. “What happened?” “I wanted only a little wealth.” “With three sacks?” “Well… a little more than a little.” They tried to untie the belt together. Then they called a knot-maker. Then a traveler who was good at untangling fishing nets. No one could do it. At last, an old teacher from the monastery said, “This is not a matter for fingers. A magical knot opens only when a person unties the same kind of knot within themselves.” “What must I do?” asked the younger brother. “Go to the person to whom you did not wish to give even a place at your table.” The younger brother was quiet for a long time. Asking help from his older brother was harder than climbing the highest mountain. But at last, he went. “Brother,” he said, lowering his eyes, “I behaved badly. I did not invite you to my feast. I did not want to share. And when I saw your life improve, I did not wonder whether you were happy. I only thought about how to gain more for myself. Will you help me?” The older brother looked at the nine knots. “I will help.” He took the magical hammer and touched the first knot lightly. Tap. “This is for envy.” The knot opened. Tap. “This is for pride.” The second knot vanished. One by one, eight knots came undone. But before the last, the younger brother suddenly said, “Wait. I want to do something myself.” He went home, opened his storehouse, and ordered that part of his grain be taken to families whose supplies would not last until spring. Then he invited his older brother and his wife to supper and set the best places for them at the table. When everyone sat down, the ninth knot on his belt quietly opened by itself. The younger brother laughed. “So the magic hammer was not the only answer.” “The strongest knots are not opened with a hammer at all,” said the older brother. After that, the brothers did not become equally rich. But no one worried about that. One had more land, while the other knew the forest herbs better. One understood trade, and the other knew how to mend a roof. They helped one another and never again measured brotherly love by the number of coins. The old magical bag was used rarely, only when it was truly needed. For there is a word that can sometimes be dearer than gold. That word is: “Enough.”

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨