The Red Agate

This story takes place in a remote village. Its hero was a boy no older than twelve. Like most village boys, he would head out each morning to graze the sheep and watch over them across the wide, open plains.

On a warm spring day, while the boy sat idly poking the dirt with a stick, his dog by his side, something caught his eye: a freshly dug hole, likely the work of a small animal. Amid the scattered soil, a red stone gleamed—its brilliance striking and impossible to ignore. Curious and captivated, he picked it up, wiped it clean with his hand, and examined it carefully before slipping it into his satchel, where he kept his provisions—bread, figs, and a flask of tea.

He spent the rest of the day moving with the flock from pasture to pasture. Whenever he came across another young shepherd, he would pull out the stone and show it off proudly, delighted by its beauty. As he wandered along, a well-respected man from the village passed by—one whose descendants would later become among the wealthiest in the area.

The man stopped, his gaze fixed on the stone in the boy’s hand. After a long look, he asked with interest,

“Where did you get this agate, my son?”

The boy pointed innocently toward a nearby hill.

“Over there—I found it in the dirt near a small burrow.”

Surprise flickered across the man’s face. Then he said,

“Take me there, and I’ll give you five francs.”

The boy didn’t hesitate. At the time, five francs felt like a small fortune to a child like him. He agreed at once, left the sheep with another shepherd, and led the man to the spot. After carefully inspecting the place, each went his separate way, and the boy returned home that evening, driving the flock ahead of him.

Later, as he sat with his family, he told them the story of the stone he had found and mentioned the man who had asked to see where it came from. The moment he took out the agate to show them, his father—who had been reclining and smoking his pipe—leapt to his feet. In a mix of shock and anger, he flung the pipe to the ground and ordered his son to take him to the place immediately.

In a rush, the father saddled his horse, grabbed an axe and a pickaxe, and set off with the boy through the dark paths toward the hill. But when they arrived, they were met with a devastating sight: the place had been transformed into a large pit, as though a group of people had worked there for hours without pause after the boy had left.

In that moment, the father realized that his son had sold a treasure for a mere handful of francs. He returned home dragging the weight of disappointment behind him, reproaching the boy with deep regret.

Years passed, yet the story is still told throughout the village. The boy’s family continues to lament the fortune that had once been within their reach, only to slip away into the hands of another man—whose descendants, to this day, still enjoy its riches.

Moral of the story

Ignorance and haste can cost you priceless opportunities. It is wise to think carefully before sharing information you do not fully understand with someone who recognizes its true value.