The Golden Heart and the Grasping Hands

Once upon a time, in a quiet countryside village, lived a man named Broly. He was known far and wide not for riches or status, but for his honesty, wisdom, and humble living. Every villager admired him and came to him for advice and justice, for Broly’s word was as solid as stone.

Broly had three sons: David, Henry, and Alex. He raised them with love and discipline, teaching them the importance of truth, hard work, and integrity. But as the boys grew older, their hearts drifted away from the virtues Broly had tried to instill.

David, the eldest, cared only for money. He constantly asked about the family wealth and how much he would inherit. Henry, the middle son, craved power. He wanted to control the family lands and boss around workers. Alex, the youngest, was carefree and lazy, dreaming of luxury without effort. All three were united by one thing: greed.

Broly saw this, and though his heart ached, he said nothing. He knew that mere words wouldn’t change their hearts. A lesson, he thought, must be lived to be learned.

One evening, as the sun cast golden light across the fields, Broly gathered his sons and said, “My dear sons, I am growing old, and soon, everything I have will belong to you. But before that, I must know you are ready.”

The sons leaned forward eagerly.

“I will give each of you the same task,” Broly continued. “To the west lies a patch of dry, abandoned land. You will each spend three days working that land. Do what you think is best. When you return, I will decide how to divide my estate.”

The next morning, the three sons went their separate ways toward the field. It was dusty, filled with rocks, and looked useless — the kind of land no farmer wanted.


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Day 1:

David arrived with builders. He cleared the rocks and told them to start constructing a storage building.

“This land is useless for crops,” he said. “But I’ll build a grain warehouse and rent it out. That’s how you make real money.”

Henry came with surveyors and flags. He began dividing the land into plots and marking areas.

“I’ll lease parts of the land to farmers and collect rent. I’ll become the biggest landowner in the region,” he boasted.

Alex strolled in late, looked around, and sighed.

“Too dry for anything,” he muttered. He laid out a mat under a tree and napped most of the day, only occasionally digging a little to appear busy.

Meanwhile, they all ignored the old olive tree that stood tall at the edge of the field — a tree their father had once planted in his youth.


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Day 4:

The brothers returned, each boasting of their accomplishments.

David said, “I’ve built the foundation of a profitable business.”

Henry said, “I’ve organized the land for future control and income.”

Alex said, “I… explored all possibilities. Nothing much can be done with that land.”

Broly listened patiently, then said, “Come with me.”

They returned to the dry field. Broly walked toward the old olive tree, dug near its roots, and pulled out a small chest buried in the earth. Inside were gold coins, a scroll, and a note.

The note read:

> “True wealth is not in gold or land, but in wisdom, patience, and care. He who finds this message has seen beyond the surface.”



The sons were stunned.

“Is this the inheritance?” David asked, eyes gleaming.

“Who does it belong to?” asked Henry.

“It must be mine,” Alex shrugged. “I came here too.”

Broly looked at them with tired eyes.

“None of you truly saw this land,” he said. “You came for your own gain, not to understand or care for it. But there was one who did.”

From behind the tree stepped jhon, a young orphan from the village whom Broly had quietly mentored for years. Yasin had no blood ties, but he had Broly’s heart. While the others planned profits, Jhon had tended to the tree, removed weeds, and watered the dry ground.

“This boy,” Broly said, “came not to claim, but to care. He saw that under this dry soil lies a spring, and that the olive tree still bears fruit when watered. He found the truth others ignored.”

The sons were furious.

“You’d give everything to a stranger?” David snapped.

“To someone not even your son?” Henry shouted.

Broly remained calm. “He is a son in spirit. You think only of taking. He thought of giving.”

He then made his decision.

“To each of you,” he said to David, Henry, and Alex, “I give one-third of my lands — but not the spring, not this olive field, and not the chest. That belongs to Jhon.”

The village watched silently. Some shook their heads at the sons; others smiled at the fairness of Broly’s choice.


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Years Later:

David’s warehouse failed after a drought ruined storage. Henry’s rented land fell empty when no one trusted his leadership. Alex sold his plot, wasted the money, and returned home empty-handed.

But Yasin turned the once-dry land into a flourishing orchard. He tapped the spring, planted new crops, and helped feed the village. He gave work to the poor and taught the children about honesty and patience — just as Broly had once taught him.

Broly passed away peacefully under the shade of the old olive tree, knowing that though his gold was buried in the soil, his values had taken root in the heart of the right son.


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Moral of the Story:

Greed may chase gold, but only honesty cultivates legacy. A true son is not one who inherits wealth, but one who upholds virtue.