Once there was a good and just king who loved his subjects and wanted to do everything he could to help them. At times, he would wander about his kingdom disguised as a commoner in order to learn more about their difficulties and troubles. In this way, he hoped to find ways to help them. On one such journey he met an old man who was driving his oxen into a field and struggling with a heavy burden on his back. It pained the king's heart to see such a thing, so he went to the man and said: "Come, Grandfather, can I not help you? Give me your bundle and I will carry it to the field for you."
The startled old man looked up from beneath his load. He dropped the sack to the ground, took a deep breath, and replied, "You are very kind, my son, but I am poor and have no way to repay such kindness." The king quickly reassured him: "Don't worry about that, Grandfather! It will be ample repayment if I can remove from my heart the pain of seeing you toil under such a heavy load." Saying this, he picked up the sack, threw it over his shoulders and went with the old man and his oxen. When they reached the field, the old man thanked him profusely and asked: "What is your name, kind sir, and where is your home?" The king sat down beside the man and did not answer at first. He was not used to such heavy work and he had to catch his breath. After a short rest, they spoke together.
King: Why do you ask my name and where I am from? I do not want any reward for my service. But you, how can it be that you still work so hard in your old age?
Farmer, in tears: What can I say? It would be better for me to remain silent. My heart aches to think about my misfortunes, to remember all that I have lost.
King: What do you mean? Please tell me. My heart goes out to you, and perhaps I can help in some small way. Please tell me what has happened.
Farmer: I cannot think what good can come of telling you my tragic story, but since you insist, I will tell you. I am very poor. I had two sons, and in my old age I depended on them very much. Last year there was a terrible famine in our land, and it hit us very hard as we were already poor. I sent one of my sons to the nearest market town - some miles from our village - to buy wheat. Alas, my second son also went with him to help him. When they arrived, they went to a big grain merchant, purchased the wheat we needed, and at once left to return home.
While they had been bargaining with the merchant, another man watched from some distance away. As it turned out, this man was a robber and a bitter enemy of the grain merchant. Apparently, the merchant had given evidence against him years before, and he had been sent to prison. So after his release, he was always looking for a chance to take revenge. After my sons left the shop, this robber saw that the grain merchant was alone. He attacked him, murdered him, and ran away with all his money. A short time later, one of the servants of the murdered merchant arrived and found his Master dead in a pool of blood. He immediately cried for help, and a large number of people hurried to see what was the matter. The police also arrived and immediately arrested the poor servant.
Of course, the servant told the police how a few moments before he had seen a couple of young men with his master. Judging by their dress and accent, he assumed they were from our part of the country and had come to buy grain. Shortly afterward, he returned and found to his great distress that his master had been brutally murdered and that the murderers had run away with all the money in the shop. The servant urged the police to go after the two men and arrest them. As soon as he told his story, the police sent a contingent of five men after my sons. They quickly caught them and took them back to the shop where they had purchased wheat.
Being quite innocent and ignorant of all that had happened, my sons went with them quite willingly. They hoped to ask the merchant to testify on their behalf that they were not thieves or robbers, but simple, honest villagers who had purchased grain at his shop. They had neither weapons nor bloodstains nor any of the stolen money. When they returned with the policemen and saw the awful scene, they were dumbfounded. Never in their lives had they seen anything so horrible, and they couldn't even utter a word. So most of the people standing around assumed they were the culprits, although a few more experienced and educated men said that it was rather a sign of innocence. But the cruel policemen would not listen to these cautions. They beat my sons mercilessly, and my eldest son was so badly injured from the blows that he fell unconscious. His clothes were stained with blood from his own wounds.
As soon as I heard this terrible news, I left my oxen and goods with a neighbor and hurried to the town where it had happened. When I arrived, I went straight to the government officials and with great humility and deference, I begged them to have pity on me and my sons. But they raged against me, treating me harshly and ordering my arrest as well, saying: "Are you so blind and stupid, old man, that you do not see the merchant's blood all over your son's clothes? Do you not hear how his blood cries out for justice?" So you see, dear friend, how blind our government is and how cruel are the police. People cry out for justice, but there is no justice. The cruel and wicked prosper while the poor and innocent suffer terribly.
Well, after cursing and threatening me, they finally let me go, but they beat my sons again and dragged them to court where they were to be tried. My poor sons said repeatedly that they knew nothing of what had happened and that they were innocent, but their words fell on deaf ears. The police twisted the facts and fabricated evidence against both my sons to show that my elder son had killed the merchant and that his younger brother had been an accomplice. On the basis of this false evidence, they were both found guilty. My elder son was sentenced to death, and the younger sentenced to seven years hard labor. I wept bitterly and cried for justice, but who listens to the pleas of the poor?
A few days later, the robber who had actually murdered the grain merchant, attacked and killed another shopkeeper. This time there were many witnesses so he could not escape. He was tried and sentenced to death, and when he realized that his own death was inevitable, he confessed to the murder of the merchant as well. On hearing the dying man's confession, the magistrate sent two officers to the prison with orders that my sons should be released. But alas, my elder son had already been hanged, and the younger had died from despair and from the wounds he had received in custody. After burying my two sons - the joy of my life and my comfort in old age - I returned home broken-hearted and weak.
King: Your story breaks my heart, Grandfather. It is more than a man can bear. Why did you not appeal to the king for justice?
Farmer: My dear sir, I tried everything I could, but the government officials would not permit me to approach the king or appeal to him. In the end, I had no choice but to drink the bitter cup of sorrow and tribulation. Our king is good and kind-hearted, but his officials are cruel and they do not tell His Majesty the whole truth. I hear that our gracious king sometimes goes about in disguise to discover the needs and woes of his subjects and to alleviate their suffering, but I do not know if it is true. So what cannot be cured must be endured.
King: Indeed, what has been done cannot be undone. I will help you if I can, but no sorrow or worrying will bring back your sons. Sooner or later, all of us leave this world. But tell me more about your life and your neighbors.
Farmer: Kind sir, there are some who weep and some who sing. Usually, each man's home is his castle. From what I have seen, the rich are no happier than the poor, nor are the poor less satisfied than the rich. Indeed, those ridden with worries and needs are less content than the poor. Before this awful misfortune, I was as happy as the king in his palace. Even now I try to willingly accept my fate and live as happily I can. Truly blessed are those whose hearts know the peace of God; otherwise, the poor and the rich, the beggar and the king are all alike.
King: Would it give you pleasure, Grandfather, if the king invited you to live in his palace?
Farmer: Is the king's palace safe from sorrow, suffering, and death? There is more pleasure in one's own simple hut with a simple meal after a hard day's work than in the luxuries of a palace. In fact, my sufferings have taught me so many valuable lessons, lessons that were unknown to me before. I am happy wherever God places me. The death of my sons was almost more than my heart could bear, but now I am convinced that the separation is only temporary. My days are also numbered, and one day I will also cross the river of death.
Today, I will scatter these grains of wheat on the field; in a few days' time they will begin to decay, but then new grains will grow. In the same way, all of us will die, but our souls will grow into a new form. Our mortal bodies will decay, but our souls will rise to dwell in eternal bliss with the Creator where there shall be no more death nor sorrow nor pain.
King: Grandfather, you have more than repaid me for my small service. Your words have been a greater help to me than any help I have given you. It is now I who must offer you thanks. Where have you found this divine knowledge?
Farmer: When I was suffering so greatly, a man of God visited me. He sympathized with me but also helped me spiritually and instructed me in divine truths. He told me that just as our dear king goes about among his people to help them, so also the heavenly king wandered the earth to better know the condition of his people. He, too, helped, instructed and comforted them. And in the end, he showed the depth of his love by sacrificing his own life for their sake. Ever since I accepted the truth taught by this holy man, I have found new peace and thankfulness for all I experience.
King: It gives me great joy to hear of this peace you have found. But I must not keep you any longer from your work. Perhaps I will have the pleasure to call on you again sometime. Saying this, the king took leave of the farmer and went on his way. The farmer, of course, had no idea that the man with whom he had spoken was actually the king in disguise. When the king returned to his palace, he investigated the man's story and found every word of it to be true. He ordered severe punishment for the policemen involved, as a lesson to others. Then the farmer received a summons to the palace, where the king received him with honor and affection and granted him a generous pension so that he could live out his days in comfort and ease. Greatly amazed, the farmer returned to his home, praising the kindness and justice of God and of the king.
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