The Father and the Buried Jar

Khmer Tales · @khmer.tales

A merchant who had done well for himself had four sons. After his wife died, he found a wife for each son in turn, and each time he gave that son a full share of everything he owned. In the end only the old house was left, and he thought, "Now my children will look after me."

He was wrong. Once the sons had wives, they squabbled and moved out one by one. At first they sent him a little food each day, but soon each wife thought another had already fed him, and some days the old man went hungry. The old house would not sell for much, and in the end he had to beg for rice.

A kind young man from the next village, who had studied and knew right from wrong, found him like this and asked what had happened. When he heard, he said, "Don't worry, grandfather. I know a way."

He told the old man to fill a small-mouthed jar with the smelliest muck he could find, tie a cloth tightly over the top and bury it beside the main post of the house. "Then tell everyone you meet that you still have a jar of gold buried there, and it will go to whichever child is most grateful."

Within days the news reached all four sons and their wives. Suddenly they came every morning with rice, fruit, cakes and new clothes, each hoping to be the grateful one. The old man grew healthy and strong again and lived happily for the rest of his life.

After the funeral, the sons were afraid they would quarrel over the gold, so they asked a teacher to divide it. The teacher secretly wanted a share himself. He sat on the ground with a cloth wrapped round his head and said, "Hold the jar above my head and tip it out. Whatever falls toward each of you is yours, and whatever stays on my head is mine."

The four sons dug up the jar, lifted it high and untied the cloth, while their wives held out baskets and the neighbours crowded round to watch. Out poured a flood of stinking muck, all over the teacher's head, splashing every wife in the family.

The neighbours ran off holding their noses. "You must have treated your father terribly," the teacher spluttered, "for his gold to turn into this!" Everyone hurried to the river to wash, and the family never lived down the shame.

Care for your parents because it is right, not for what they might leave you. And those who grab at a share they haven't earned may get more than they bargained for. Retold for Akahs Media from Khmer oral tradition.