The Lazy Man and the Six Gongs

The Lazy Man and the Six Gongs

Once there was a man who loved doing nothing more than anything else. When other people went to the fields before the heat rose, he looked for a tree with deep shade. If someone asked him to help carry a basket, he suddenly remembered that his arms were “terribly tired.” When people advised him to learn a trade, he answered, “Why hurry? The world is large. Something will turn up.” So he lived by asking for a little food, finding a little by chance, and hoping for luck more than for work. One day, he lay beneath a fig tree. Ripe fruit hung from its branches. “How nice,” he murmured. “Now all I have to do is wait until lunch drops into my mouth.” He stared at the sky and would not even stretch out his hand toward a low branch. Soon a traveler came down the road. “Good man,” called the lazy fellow, “please pick a fig and put it right into my mouth.” The traveler stopped in surprise. “Are you serious?” “Completely. The fruit is here, and my mouth is here. Everything is convenient.” The traveler shook his head. He decided to teach the man a small lesson. He picked up a little clod of earth and gently placed it on the fellow’s tongue. The lazy man jumped up so fast that one might have thought he had practiced running all his life. “Hey! That is dirt!” But the traveler was already laughing as he walked away. Angry, the man threw figs after him. One flew across the path, landed in a stream, and floated away with the current. Far downstream, near a palace garden, the daughter of the local ruler saw the fruit in the water. She picked it up, washed it, and tasted it. “What a sweet fig!” she said. “I wonder which tree it came from, and who tossed it into the stream.” The courtiers could only shrug. The princess was curious and determined. She asked her servants to follow the stream and question people along the way. A few days later, they returned with a strange tale about a man who had lain beneath a fig tree and refused even to pick a fruit for himself. Everyone in the palace laughed. “What a hero!” said the princess’s father. “Let him stay under his tree.” But the princess said, “I would like to meet him. A person everyone laughs at may not be as simple as he seems. And if he truly is lazy, perhaps no one has ever given him a reason to change.” The man was brought to the palace—or nearly brought. He walked by himself for half the journey, then sat down by the road and declared that his legs did not agree to go farther. The servants had to persuade him for quite a while. The ruler looked at the visitor and frowned. “How do you earn your living?” “So far, I am best at resting,” the man answered. “What do you want most?” He thought. “That tomorrow should not be worse than today.” “That is a very small wish,” said the princess quietly. For some reason, her words touched him more than all the teasing he had heard. The princess had no intention of following an old tale’s rule and marrying a stranger at once. Instead, she made another suggestion. “My family has an abandoned farm lower down the river,” she said. “The land is good, but no one has cared for it for years. I want to live there for a while. If you wish to show that you can become more than you are now, come with me.” The man wanted to refuse. At a farm, there would be work to do. But he looked at the princess and, to his own surprise, said, “All right.” The ruler gave them a boat, a little rice, seed, tools, and a few simple things for their home. On the first day, the man discovered that his old life had ended. When they grew hungry, he waited for someone to cook. The princess quietly put a bag of rice before him. “And now?” he asked. “Now you need a fire, water, and a pot.” “And who will do that?” “Whoever wishes to eat supper.” So he gathered dry branches. “Place three stones for the fire,” the princess explained. “The pot will stand on them.” He placed one stone. The pot tipped. He placed a second. The pot fell. With the third, it finally stood firmly. “What a remarkable thing,” he said. “It seems even supper does not arrive by itself.” “But when you make it yourself, it tastes better,” the princess replied. The next morning, they had to clear the field. The man worked for ten minutes and lay down in the grass. “I have already done a great deal.” The princess looked at the narrow strip of ground he had cleared. “For an ant, perhaps.” He laughed and stood up again. Day after day, he learned. At first he worked only because he had to. Then because he did not want to disappoint his companion. Later, he began to notice things he had never seen before: how evenly rice sprouts grew, how water found its way between the beds, and how good it felt in the evening to look at a field and know that it had changed because of his hands. One evening he said, “It is strange. I thought work only took away strength.” “And now?” “Now I see that sometimes it gives you back yourself.” Time passed. The field came alive. A vegetable garden grew beside the house, rice filled the storehouse, and young trees took root in the orchard. A kind spirit, people say, watched human actions. It saw not only what the man had once been, but how earnestly he was changing. One night, six monkeys came to the farm. Each carried a small gong. They sat along the fence and began such a ringing concert that the farmer ran outside. “Who is making music in the middle of the night?” The monkeys became still. “Do not be angry,” said the oldest. “These gongs are special.” “All six?” “Each in its own way.” The first reminded a person to stay cheerful and care for themselves. The second helped someone think clearly before an important decision. The third reminded people that the earth gives food only where it is cared for. The fourth called neighbors together for shared work. The fifth helped settle a quarrel peacefully. And the sixth gave the most important reminder of all: respect cannot be demanded with wealth or titles; it is earned by one’s actions. “What are they for?” asked the man. “Because you have finally learned to use what you have,” said the monkey. “But remember: no magic gong will do your work for you.” At dawn the monkeys vanished, leaving the six gongs behind. The man and the princess did not use them as a machine for becoming rich. They rang them only when real help was needed. When a great harvest was ready, the fourth gong sounded, and neighbors came to work together. Afterward, the farmer served everyone supper. When two villagers argued over the line between their fields, the fifth gong answered softly. The people sat down and talked instead of shouting. And when the farmer began to feel too proud of his success, the princess touched the sixth gong. Ding! “I understand,” he would sigh. “I understand.” A few years later, they visited the palace. The ruler could scarcely recognize the man who had once refused to pick himself a fig. “I hear you are now a prosperous farmer,” he said. “So people say,” the man replied. “And do you no longer have to work yourself?” “I do not have to work every moment,” he said with a smile. “But I now know the difference between resting after a task and living while waiting for someone else to do everything for you.” The ruler nodded. On the way home, the man remembered how people had once laughed at him because he was poor and lazy. Now, some people were ready to praise him even when he was simply sitting down, because he had become prosperous. “What a strange world,” he said to the princess. “When I lay beneath a tree with no money, everyone called me lazy. If I lay beneath a silk canopy today, the same people would say, ‘What an important man, taking his rest.’” She laughed. “That is why you should not listen too closely to teasing or to flattery.” “What should I listen to?” She touched the little sixth gong they had brought with them. Ding! “Your actions.” From then on, the man knew how to work and how to rest. But no one ever placed figs in his mouth again. There was no need. He had learned long ago to stand up and pick them himself.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨