The Thankless Son

There in a humble village lived two poor parents, Staling and Maurides. They had one son, Stinga, who meant so much to them, although abject poverty seemed to weigh heavily upon them. The house was not far from the river whereby the family survived on simple fishing and farming. Stinga, though struggling, was a vibrant, energetic young lad.

One bright morning, young Stinga took the family's small boat out to sea, a thing he did so often. Far off from the shores, the young boy managed to see a huge ship appear on the horizon. The captain in that ship was an experienced sailor who never missed such a young boy with a propelling physique and a sharp mind. He said to himself, *This boy will make a fine crew member*. He did not waste a moment in ordering that two of his men take Stinga aboard.

He resisted initially, in a frightening state of being separated from his home, but was no match to the crew of that ship. They took him far from his family and thus left Staling and Maurides behind heartbroken and confused, knowing nothing about what their son had become.

Onboard, Stinga had to follow every command of the captain. Whatever work came his way, from cleaning the deck to navigating through the sea, Stinga did without ever wasting a single breath. Soon enough, this boy who showed a great deal of promise was in the captain's good books. He soon started treating Stinga like his own son.

Years flew by, and Stinga grew into a fine young man. And thus it was-the hard work finally paid off. The captain grew more and more in his admiration until he finally released upon Stinga his most treasured gift: the hand of his only daughter in marriage. Accepting his offer, Stinga was by now influential and rich; with pomp and fanfare, the two were married. In due course, Stinga came to be a captain in the same vessel which had once forcibly taken him from his lowly estate. The new Captain Stinga now travelled the length and breadth of many lands, and his name became synonymous with a capable leader. Exotic ports, dining with nobility, and the life of luxury that followed were far from his humble beginnings in the small village.

Years later, one day Stinga's ship happened to anchor at the mouth of that very river which led up to his home village.

The villagers rejoiced the moment the name Captain Stinga reached their ears, knowing well that the famous captain was no other than their very own Stinga. In no time, word reached his parents' ears, Staling and Maurides, who have often wondered over the years what happened to their son. They were so jubilant that they took to paddling their old canoe toward the grand ship to catch the sight of their son. The parents scampered to the ship, their hearts dancing with elation.

But when they tried to board, one of the crew members barred them. Dazed and terrified, Staling and Maurides called out for their son. Stinga appeared on deck but froze at the sight of them. He could feel their gaze upon him, heavy with weight, yet he felt ashamed-ashamed of their tattered clothes, of their humble look, and most of all of his past. How could he introduce these people as his parents to his sophisticated wife and crew? Stinga feigned ignorance and turned away. His mother called his name once again and her arms went out while her eyes welled with tears. Stinga's wife sensed the uneasiness and asked who they were. Stinga answered in a cold manner, "I do not know these people. My parents are long gone."

These words pierced like a knife into Staling and Maurides. Heartbroken, his mother fell on her knees and threw her arms to the heavens. "Oh, Lord," she belched in voice and trembling, "show this ungrateful son that I am his mother.

No sooner had she uttered it than the sky put on a sombre look. A deafening thunder boomed and the horizon went red with lightning. A storm broke out, quite literally, in fury and the ship tossed about most violently. The crew rushed around trying to tie up the sails, but waves just would not let them do so. Stinga looked on aghast as his mother's plea had reached the ears of God, and he felt his heart sink in dismay as he realised what he had done.

He ran to the edge of the ship and cried out, "Mother! Father! Forgive me!" It was apparent that the winds and storm would not easily be Appeased, and the ship was in disarray; waves hit the hull, and with one final mighty gust of wind, the ship went down, left swallowed by the sea.

After the storm subsided finally, there was no more mighty ship, no more Captain Stinga, no more his wife, no more the whole crew; instead, there was one large rock formation where the ship used to be-a silent monument to Stinga's folly.

Thereafter, the story of the ungrateful son was passed on by the villagers. The stone ship stood as a reminder for all that passed: one should never forget one's roots or turn one's back upon those rearing him, no matter how high he soars in life.