A Man with two wives

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
A fable about man who has two wives and many sons and how they learn the value of their upbringing.

Submitted: December 09, 2014

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Submitted: December 09, 2014



There once was a man who had two wives and many sons. One wife was as white as freshly fallen snow. The other wife was as black as the midnight sky. The man loved both his wives equally but they were still jealous of each other and brought their sons up their own way. The white mother bullied and demanded her sons work together and never believe they were equal to their black brothers. They were superior and she refused to allow them their freedom of choice and made them change circumstances to suit their will. The black mother taught her sons that they were better than their white brothers but she encouraged them to be independent and to evolve to suit a situation she taught them to relish their freedom. Much to the white mother’s sorrow and the black mother’s delight there were more black sons than white sons.

One day the man decide to remove a very large rose quartz rock from his paddock and gave the task to his sons. He didn’t care where the rock ended up just as long as it was not in the middle of the paddock, and he didn’t want it broken either. The white mother was taken by its iridescent shine and veins of soft gold and wanted the rock to be moved to her side of the paddock. The black mother was taken by its cool lustre and dense texture and wanted the rock to be moved to her side of the paddock.

All the sons gathered around the rock and put their hands upon the serene surface.

“Push the rock to me.” The white mother called from her side of the paddock.

“No push the rock to me.” The black mother called from her side of the paddock.

So the sons each pushed and pulled and heaved and strained and sweated, but the rock remained where it was unmoved.

“I am ashamed to call you my sons.” The white mother cried, stomping her feet and tearing at her hair.

“I refuse to acknowledge you as my sons.” The black mother wailed, turning her back to her sons and throwing handfuls of dust at her face.

Each son was so moved by his mother’s lamenting that they stopped and thought about how their mother had taught them. All the black sons stood around the rock arguing at how best the rock could be moved without compromising its will. Meanwhile all the white sons looked to the oldest and waited for him to tell them what to do. The oldest white son fetch a rope and tied it around the big rock and organized each of his white brothers to line up and pull upon the rope together. The rock would go where they told it to go. The rock started to move towards the white mother’s side of the paddock. All the black brothers realised in horror that the rock was being dragged further from the black mother’s side of the paddock so they all grabbed at bits of the rock but still could not decide how to move the rock, or which black brother should take the lead. Finally the rock was on the white mother’s side of the paddock along with the white brothers and the black brothers for they were sorry to have let their black mother down.

The man came into the paddock and was pleased with the job, but saw that the white brothers were lording it over the despondent black brothers. He shook his head and walked between his sons and embraced as many as he could.

“You have all done well. Your white brothers worked together that is why the rock was moved, but that doesn’t mean the rock is on the side of the paddock that is the best suited for the rock.”

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