The Wise Old Woman

The young farmer, saw the notice as well, and wondered what would happen to his mother if a new lord even more terrible than their own came to rule over them.When his mother saw the troubled look on his face, she asked, “Why do you look so worried, my son?” The farmer told her of the impossible demand made by Lord Higa if the village was to be spared, but his mother did not seem troubled at all. Instead she laughed softly and said, “Why, that is not such an impossible task. All one has to do is soak ordinary rope in salt water and dry it well. When it is burned, it will hold its shape and there is your rope of ash! Tell the villagers to hurry and find one thousand pieces of rope. The farmer shook his head in amazement. “Mother, you are wonderfully wise,” he said, and he rushed to tell the young lord what he must do. “You are wiser than all the wise men of the village,” the lord said when he heard the farmer’s solution, and he rewarded him with many pieces of gold. The thousand ropes of ash were quickly made and the village was spared. In a few days, however, there was another great commotion in the village as Lord Higa sent yet another threat. This time he sent a log with a small hole that was curved and bent seven times through its length, and he demanded that a single piece of silk thread be threaded through the hole. “If you cannot perform this task,” the lord threatened, “I shall come to conquer your village.” The young lord hurried once more to his wise men, but they all shook their heads in bewilderment. “A needle cannot bend its way through such curves,” they moaned. “Again we are faced with an impossible demand.” “Again you act as stupid fools!” the lord said, stamping his foot impatiently. He then posted a second notice in the village square asking villagers for their help. Once more the young farmer hurried with the new problem to his mother in her secret room. “Why, that is not so difficult,” his mother said with a quick smile. “Put some sugar at one end of the hole. Then, tie an ant to a piece of silk thread and put it in at the other end. He will weave his way in and out of the curves to get to the sugar and he will take the silk thread with him.

Once more the lord commended the young farmer and rewarded him with many pieces of gold. “You are a brilliant man and you have saved our village again,” he said gratefully. But the lord’s troubles were not over even then, for a few days later, Lord Higa sent another demand. “This-time you will undoubtedly fail and then I shall make your village mine,” he threatened. “Bring me a drum that makes sounds without being beaten.” This time the wise men held their heads in their hands and moaned, “It is hopeless. It is hopeless. This time Lord Higa will attack us.” The young farmer hurried home breathlessly. “Mother, Mother, we must solve another terrible problem or Lord Higa will conquer our village!” And he quickly told his mother about the impossible drum. His mother, however, smiled and answered, “Why, this is the easiest of them all. Make a drum with sides of paper and put a bumblebee inside. As it tries to escape, it will buzz and beat itself against the paper and you will have a drum that makes sounds without being beaten.” The young farmer was amazed at his mother’s wisdom. “You are far wiser than any of the wise men in this village,” he said, and he hurried to tell the young lord how to meet Lord Higa’s third demand. When the lord heard the answer, he was greatly impressed. “Surely a young man like you cannot be wiser than all my wise men,” he said. “Tell me honestly, who has helped you solve all these difficult problems?” The young farmer could not lie. “My lord,” he began slowly, “for the past two years, I have broken the law of the land. I have kept my aged mother hidden beneath the floor of my house, and it is she who solved each one of your problems and saved the village from Lord Higa.” “I have been very wrong,” he said finally. “And I must ask the forgiveness of your mother and of all my people. Never again will I demand that the old people of our village be sent to the mountains to die. Rather, they will be treated with the respect and honour they deserve and share with us the wisdom of their years.”