The Tale of Three Servants

There were once three servants who lived in an old stately manor at the edge of a quiet village. Since their youth, the servants had tended to the house and grounds with diligence and care. During the early years of their service, the manor had housed and entertained kings, rulers, and foreign dignitaries from all corners of the earth. It was a source of great pride for the servants – and a great source of pride for the master and lady of the house.

As the years passed away, like leaves falling from a tree, the occupants of the manor grew older. The master’s face accumulated a few more wrinkles, but they couldn’t hide the twinkle in his eye nor did they dull his sense of humor. The lady of the house, the daughter of a real estate magnate, grew more radiant and graceful with time. And the servants continued to perform their duties admirably, with complete precision and humility.

At the end of each year, the master and lady of the house dressed in their formal best and summoned their servants to the great hall. It was there that they paid each servant their due and thanked each of them for their faithful service. Immediately following this payment ceremony, each servant would take his money and use as he saw fit.

The oldest servant spent every bit of his meager earnings and then some on spirits, merriment, and worldly indulgences. He had been heavily in debt for his entire adult life, but somehow, always seemed to find a way to keep his creditors at bay.

The second servant spent every cent he earned on a lovely maid who lived in a nearby cottage. For many years, the servant had desired to ask for the maid’s hand in marriage, but his perpetual lack of funds always kept him from proposing.

The third and youngest servant, however, was a simple gator. His needs were small and his indulgences few. But he had one great longing – to travel the world. So, each year after the payment ceremony, he had taken twenty dollars and invested it in a local dairy farm. This money was added to the tiny sum of five dollars that he had invested in the dairy before he began work for the master. The owner of the dairy, a friend and honest fellow, would report each and every year with a smile that the young servant’s investment had increased in value by twenty-five percent.

While the master frowned on the oldest servant’s debt, and couldn’t understand why the second servant was always broke, he applauded his youngest servant’s investment effort – even though the amounts were small and insignificant.

So things continued, until a wretched day in the dead of winter when the lady of the house passed away suddenly from a biting cold. The master was distraught and the servants beside themselves. But time, insensitive as it was, kept moving forward.

Slowly and steadily, the castle and grounds fell into a state of disrepair. The twinkle in the master’s eye and his jovial nature failed him. Many nights, the master couldn’t sleep and he simply wandered the long hallways. As the servants observed the perpetual grieving of their master and the toll it took on his health, the zest they had once felt for their responsibilities faded.