Chronicles & Tales

The Old Man and the Apples

There was once an old man who lived alone in an humble house, a bit isolated, up a small village. He woke up very early every morning, walked to street market in the village, and sold apples. There were days he sold many apples, and would go home with an empty basket. But there were days when he couldn’t sell a single apple, and walked back home with all his apples.

One day, a boy watched the man at the street market, and noticed how he had many beautiful, big apples. As the Sun was almost gone, he decided to follow the old man to his house and, at night, steal a few of those apples. So around midnight, he passed through the humble walls and entered his house. The basket of apples was left on the table, as the old man slept peacefully in his room, with the door closed. The boy took as many apples as he could carry and silently left.

The next day, the old man went to the street market as if nothing had happened; he carried his basket of apples, sat beside them and waited for clients. The boy, seeing that he had apparently not been affected by the lost apples, decided to go once again that night and take a few more. He did so the next day, and the next, and the next. The old man always appeared on the street market with new apples, even bigger and more beautiful.

After a month, the boy was curious. How could the old man not be affected? They had stolen a lot of apples already and he always appeared with new ones. He was clearly not rich, for he lived very humbly. Also, he could see no apple tree on the old man’s humble and small yard. Intrigued, the boy gathered all his courage and decided to visit the man on Sunday.

“Sir,” he said. “First, I came to apologise. I have been stealing your apples for a month now, and I know I did wrong. I am sincerely sorry, and I swear it won’t happen again.”

The old man simply smiled, and waited for the boy to continue.

“I also am intrigued,” he went on. “How come we stole your apples, yet every day you came back with new ones, better ones?”

“Ah,” said the old man. “I have a secret.”

“I know I do not deserve, but please, tell me. The curiosity has been killing me.”

After thinking for a moment, the old man asked the boy to follow him to his small bedroom. There, for the boy’s surprise, there was a beautiful apple tree, that went up to the roof, planted on the corner of the room. He also noticed the old man’s bed was right under it.

“The apples get worse as the days pass by,” the old man said. “They are good one day, and the next, they lose a bit of their quality. So, you might have stolen the apples, but I made sure I protected their source. This way, I can never be without apples.”