Ali and the Wisdom Beneath the Floorboards"

A long time ago, in a small village nestled between quiet hills and thick bamboo forests, there lived a humble farmer named Haruki. He wasn’t rich or famous, but he worked hard and treated others with kindness. Most of all, he loved his mother, Aiko, who had raised him alone after his father died young.

Aiko was old now, with silver hair and hands worn from a lifetime of work. Though her body had grown weak, her mind remained sharp. She remembered everything—from planting seasons to old legends, and she always had a calm, wise answer for life’s troubles. To Haruki, she was more precious than anything.

Their days were simple. Haruki worked in the fields from sunrise to sunset, and at night, he and Aiko would share a meal of rice and soup, sit by the lantern’s warm glow, and talk. Often, Aiko would tell him old stories passed down from her parents and grandparents. He never tired of hearing them.

But peace does not last forever.

Far from the village, in the capital, a new king had come to power. He was young and full of pride. People began to call him the Cruel King. He believed that old people were useless. "They do nothing but eat and slow us down," he said. "Only the strong and young can build a better future."

Then came the decree: Anyone over the age of seventy must be taken to the mountains and left to die.

When the villagers heard the order, their hearts sank. Many cried in silence. No one dared speak against the king. Families who had cared for their elders now faced an impossible choice—break the law and risk punishment, or obey and lose those they loved.

Haruki was devastated. Aiko had just turned seventy.

He couldn’t imagine life without her. But Aiko, as always, was calm.

“Haruki,” she said softly, “you must take me. It’s the law.”

“No,” he replied. “There must be another way.”

But the days passed, and the king’s guards came closer to the village. Haruki knew he couldn’t hide his mother much longer. So, with a heavy heart, he wove a strong basket and lined it with blankets. One morning, before the sun had fully risen, he lifted Aiko onto his back and began the long, painful walk toward the mountains.

As they climbed through the forest, Aiko quietly broke twigs and dropped them along the path.

“Why are you doing that?” Haruki asked.

“So you can find your way home,” she said gently.

Even now, in the face of death, she was thinking of him.

They reached a quiet clearing near the top of the mountain. The wind whispered through the trees, and birds chirped softly. Haruki laid her down on a bed of moss beneath a tall pine tree.

“I can’t leave you here,” he said, his voice shaking.

“You must,” Aiko replied. “But if you can, come back when it’s safe.”

Haruki couldn’t bear the thought of abandoning her. So he built a small shelter of branches and leaves to keep her warm and hidden. Every night, under cover of darkness, he returned with food and blankets. And every night, Aiko greeted him with a smile.

Then one day, weeks later, the king sent out a new challenge to the people.

“I will reward anyone who can bring me a rope made of ashes,” he announced. “It must look like a rope, not just a pile of ash. Anyone who fails will face punishment.”

The villagers were confused. A rope made of ashes? How could such a thing exist?

No one had any idea. But that night, Haruki told Aiko about the strange challenge.

She thought for a moment, then smiled. “Ah, I know how. Take a real rope, soak it in salt water, let it dry, then lay it on a bed of ashes and burn it slowly. The salt will help it keep its shape, even after the fire is gone.”

Haruki did exactly as she said. When he presented the rope of ashes to the king, the court was stunned.

The king narrowed his eyes. “Who taught you this?”

Haruki hesitated, then bowed deeply. “My mother.”

“Your mother?” the king said sharply. “But she should not be alive.”

Haruki looked up. “I couldn’t leave her to die. She’s wise. She saved me—and now she’s helped save your challenge.”

There was silence in the hall. Then, something unexpected happened.

The king slowly rose from his throne. “No one in my entire kingdom could solve this. Only your mother could. Perhaps I was wrong.”

And just like that, the cruel law was lifted.

The king publicly declared that elders were no longer to be abandoned. Instead, they would be honored as wise guides for the younger generations. He even invited the village elders to form a council to advise him.

Haruki returned to the mountains—this time in daylight—and carried Aiko home, proudly. The villagers cheered. Life slowly returned to peace.

And so, Aiko lived the rest of her days in the comfort of her son’s care, surrounded by people who now understood the value of wisdom, patience, and love.

As for the king, he changed. Bit by bit, the cruelty faded from his heart. Perhaps, some said, it was the wisdom of an old woman—passed on through her son—that lit a spark of understanding in him.

---

Moral: In every wrinkle lies a story. In every old heart, a lifetime of wisdom. Never be too proud to listen.