The Wise Child
Long ago a young couple, Lukas and Anna, lived on a small but
prosperous farm. When Lukas' father, Heinrich, began to grow old, the
couple invited him to share their home.
The night Heinrich arrived on the farm, the family celebrated. The
table brimmed with produce from the fields and gardens, and Anna baked
bread and filled the vases with flowers.
After the meal, Lukas showed his father to his room.
Heinrich's eyes teared up as he looked at the comfortable bed layered
with blankets and pillows and at the handmade rocking chair beside a
window that looked out on the southern fields. A fresh wind blew in
through the window, ruffling his son's hair.
"I hope you will be comfortable here, Father," Lukas said.
Heinrich took his son's hands in his. "I will be happy so long as I
am near my family," he said. "And I will happily help you on the farm."
The next morning Heinrich awoke early and strode to the chicken coop
to feed the chickens. In the afternoon he mucked out the horse barn, and
in the evening he helped his son feed and water the animals. Although
he was sore by day's end, he was happy to be able to help his son.
That night once again the family shared a fine meal.
"There's good news," Lukas told his father. "In a few months you will have a grandson. Anna and I are due to have a baby."
Heinrich was overjoyed at this news.
The months passed, and all was well, though each night Heinrich felt a
new ache in his body. Sometimes he wished he were young again. "Son,"
he told Lukas, "I won't always be able to work so much as I do now, I
fear. I'm growing old."
"That doesn't matter," Lukas assured his father.
Sure enough, as time passed Heinrich grew weaker. Sometimes his hands
trembled, so he stopped carrying buckets. He could no longer get up at
dawn, and by evening he was exhausted. Still, all was well.
Then Anna gave birth to a son. They named him Niklas.
When Heinrich looked into his grandson's eyes, his own welled up with
tears. He cradled the baby to his chest and looked down at him,
remembering the day his own son, Lukas, was born. "It seems it was just
yesterday that you were a baby like Niklas," Heinrich said to Lukas.
Lukas laughed. But Anna was scowling, and she reached for the baby.
"Father, your hands are shaking. Here, let me take Niklas," and she
snatched the baby from her father-in-law's arms.
Heinrich felt a stab in his heart. He did not wish to worry Anna. Of
course he would take care with this child. How could she think
otherwise?
That night at supper, Anna turned on her father-in-law. "I worry that
with your unsteady hands you might drop one of our good plates," she
said. "I've taken the liberty of bringing in this bowl for you to use,"
and with that she handed him a large wooden bowl
Heinrich stared in dismay. "That's the bowl for chicken feed," he said. "That bowl belongs in the barn."
"It's good enough," Anna said firmly. "We don't have money to burn,
and if you break a plate, we'll have to replace it. This way we won't
have to worry."
Lukas simply stared down at his plate.
The old man nodded. He saw that changes were happening rapidly to him these days, and so time passed.
By the time little Niklas was standing, the old man could barely walk
outside. His feet throbbed, his back ached, and he was always tired and
sore.
One night as Heinrich was pouring himself a glass of water, his hand
shook so badly that he knocked the glass to the floor, where it
shattered.
"See that!" Anna cried. "Even the baby doesn't break glasses! Lukas, I think it's time your father ate in his room."
Lukas sadly nodded. "I'm afraid she's right," he said to his father,
and so they made a table for the old man where, each night, he ate
simple porridge from a wooden bowl. No longer did he share the family's
feasts.
"Now perhaps we'll have some peace at the supper table," Heinrich heard Anna say. And the baby heard too.
Several years passed, and when Niklas was old enough to speak, he
often crept into his grandfather's room. There the old man and the young
boy whispered together.
"What do they talk about?" Anna said. "I don't want your father filling our boy's head with nonsense."
"Father," Lukas said to Heinrich, "be careful what you say to our boy. He's young and impressionable."
Heinrich said nothing.
One afternoon a few months later, Anna walked out to the barn and
discovered her son hard at work. He was at his father's worktable,
scraping and pounding and cutting. "What are you doing, Niklas?" she
asked.
"I'm making a gift for you and one for father," he said. "Don't look. You'll find out what they are tonight."
Anna was overjoyed; she could not wait to see her son's creation.
That night Niklas handed each of his parents a box. "One for each of
you."
They quickly opened the boxes and inside they discovered two wooden bowls.
Niklas smiled. "These will be your bowls when you are old -- when you
no longer can eat from the good china, and when you must sit alone in
your room eating porridge."
Anna and Lukas instantly understood. They rushed into Heinrich's room, and Lukas tenderly lifted his father into his arms.
"I'm so sorry, Father," he said as he carried him back to the table.
"We'll never neglect you again," Anna promised, as both she and her husband imagined their own old age.
And they were forever grateful to Niklas for the vital lesson he taught them.
às
January 13, 2018
