The Book of Sorren

Three Brothers - A Folktale

There were once three brothers who were proud sons of a talented carpenter. They were each strong, wise, and honorable. After the carpenter’s wife died suddenly, the carpenter became so distraught that he could not work properly anymore. He would forget his tools or produce shabby work. His business dried up, and soon the entire household was in financial distress. The oldest son called his brothers together secretly, and they discussed what might be done to assist their grieving father.

The youngest son spoke first. He counseled that the brothers could form a musical group and travel the countryside, delighting the people and earning substantial wages as well. Next, the middle son spoke. He was not so enamored of his younger brother’s idea. He counseled that the brothers could form a carpentry business, utilizing the skills taught to them by their father. Traveling the countryside, they could satisfy the people and earn substantial wages. Finally, the oldest son spoke. He applauded his two younger brothers’ ideas but also saw things differently. He counseled that the brothers should make no decisions about the future until they had traveled the countryside, to be delighted by the people. That night, the three sons went to their father and told him of their plans. He well understood the reasons for their departure, and he wished them godspeed and good fortune.

The following morning, after honoring their father with kind words and affection, the three sons prepared to set out on their journey. Before they left, the father directed them to the stable. They walked in silence, but each son wondered what it was that would be revealed. The father went into the darkness and returned a moment later with a small handheld tool. He handed it to the oldest son and said,

“My boys, I have very little to offer you besides my counsel, but I do have one possession which may help you on your journey. Just as I am giving this tool to you, I was given this tool by my father when I left his household. Strangely, I cannot tell you its purpose; it was never revealed to me by my father. He told me only that, with wisdom, would come guidance and strength. I hope that the three of you can find what it is that I have been searching for all these years.”

And then the boys were on their way. Without any clear vision, the three sons merely tossed a blade of grass into the air and followed it into the unknown.

After several hours of leisurely walking and talking, the three came to their first new town. While they had traveled a little with their father, none of them had ever been to this town. Upon passing the city limits, they quickly were beset with new sights, and sounds, and smells. The youngest son was in a state of great excitement. He had never been to such a large, frenetic place. He quickly pulled his flute from his backpack and began to play his happy tune. He did not know many songs yet, but he was confident enough to “do” without “knowing”.

The three walked through town, the youngest serenading the group, when they came to a small pastry stand. A young lady behind the counter asked them,

“Would ya be liking a pastry, boys?” She smiled broadly at the oldest boy.

The oldest boy, whose name was Shel, smiled back at the young lady. As it turned out, he was indeed hungry.

“We most surely would, but we have very little money.”

The young lady put her arms on the counter, resting her head, and said,

“Well, how much money does ya have?”

He extended his hand, “Only these few coins.”

“Oh,” she said. “Just one of them coins’ll do.”

The oldest boy handed over one of the coins, and then they each received a delicious fruit tart. They had not eaten since sharing a loaf of bread in the morning. The sweetness of the fruit awakened their senses, and suddenly the town became even more vibrant. The smile on the young lady’s face became intoxicating to Shel. She was bathed in a light which he had never seen before. Shel moved towards the girl, and they became lost in conversation. After waiting patiently, the two younger boys decided to leave Shel and explore the city further.

There was so much to see, it was a little overwhelming to the more inexperienced boys. While there were numbers of people walking the streets, buying pastries and conversing loudly, they eventually came to a section of the city which was dedicated to business. There were blacksmiths, foundries, and shoemakers, with dedicated servants in each. They passed by a carpentry shop and the stewart called out to them,

“Boys, are ye looking for work?”

The two looked at each other, unsure of the plan.

“We’re not sure.”

“Well, we can always use help. It’s hard work, but it pays.”

The middle son, whose name was Gael, spoke privately to his younger brother,

“This is how we can help Father. What do you say?”

The younger boy was conflicted, “Shel said that we needed to explore first. And we’ve only just started.”

“I’ve explored enough. I’m gonna take the job, Phinney. You and Shel know where to find me” and then Gael went into the carpenter’s shop, and Phinney was left alone.

Phinney walked through the town by himself for the rest of the morning. Each new turn of the street provided him with a new perspective, a new vista of what was possible in the big world. The sustenance of the fruit pastry was wearing off, and he was becoming hungry again, but he had no money. He thought that maybe he could play some music and that some generous townsfolk would grace him with a few coins.

He took off his hat and placed it before himself. Then, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his flute, and began to play. He knew only a few songs, but he was nevertheless comfortable with seeing where his playing would take him. He started with the few folk songs that he knew, and as the townsfolk passed by, listening to his music, some of them did indeed place small coins into his hat. Each time, Phinney would nod his head in acknowledgment and thanks. Very soon, Phinney had exhausted the few pieces that he knew. He wondered what to play next. A small crowd of a few children had gathered around him, waiting for the next song. Phinney needed to think quickly. He searched his mind for more songs that he had learned, but there were none. The crowd shuffled their feet slightly, and he could sense them losing their patience. In order not to lose them, he simply brought the flute to his lips and began to play what was in his heart.

What came forth was not a song, not a song that anyone had heard; it was older than that, even Phinney himself was surprised. It was almost as if the music were writing itself. Phinney would finish a melodic line and then pause, allowing a resonance to float away. The crowd before him listened and watched as the finished melody soared off into the dusty sky. They looked to Phinney for more, and he began again.

Over the next several days, the boys lost themselves in their newfound roles, but they never forgot about each other or their father’s circumstance. On the third night in the new town, there was a nighttime celebration, and the boys were reunited. They found a quiet place to talk, and they caught up with how the others were faring. Shel was spending a lot of time with the young lady from the pastry shop, her name was Arry, and he was also doing some odd jobs for her father’s business. Gael was working in the carpenter’s shop and was already thought of very highly. Phinney told his older brothers about his successes as a street musician, but he didn’t share with them the strange feelings he had when composing new music. The three boys decided that they would continue this course a little longer so that they could send some money back to their father.

Days passed, then weeks, and even years. The boys were religious about sending money and other personal items of affection back to their father. Occasionally, one of them would take a trip back to check on their father’s health and to comfort him in his loneliness. Their father was always elated to see them, and he talked of coming to visit them, though he never did.

One day, Shel went to his brother Gael’s place of work to see him. In his left hand, he carried the hand tool their father had given to them. Shel extended his hand and presented the tool to Gael. He said,

“Gael, I have never understood the usefulness of this tool, but I am happy. I now have Arry, and she and I bring joy to each other. It is up to you now to discover why this tool was given to father, and then to us.”

Gael accepted the gift, though he knew not what to do.

More years passed. Shel now had children of his own. Gael had been promoted within his business and was likely to succeed his elders. Phinney had built a legendary name for himself as a performing artist. All seemed right with the world. Then came news of their father’s death.

The father, whose name was Juel, had been dreaming of his sons. He did this often, but tonight’s dream was different. He was in his workshop, working on an elegant table for a fussy customer. He was deep in concentration when he became aware of an intense heat. He ran outside of his shop to find his home engulfed in flames. He was instantly terrified and began running to the house, yelling,

“Shel, Gael, Phin, wake up! You must escape!”

Just then, he saw his three boys standing next to him and his heart exploded in delight.

“Oh, my boys. Thank the Lord, you are alright. Come, help me to extinguish this fire.”

The three boys were all smiling, and they spoke to him calmly,

“Father, do not worry about the house. We no longer need it, and you, too, are free to go.”

Juel was beside himself.

“What are you talking about? This is my home. We must put out the flames.”

“No,” they said. “That is no longer your concern.”

Juel could not understand what was happening. He spoke in astonishment,

“Sons, why are you smiling at this terrible event?” The youngest son spoke,

“Father, just as your loving sons have left for their new homes, now you must do the same. But your trip will be different. There is someone there waiting for you. Mother has called out to us, to tell us of your journey. She can wait no longer.”

At the mention of his wife, the old man began to weep. It had been so long since he had seen her. Now, Gael spoke,

“Father, there will be many, many people in the place you are to visit. Many of them you will know, and you may be overcome with joy. In this state, you may find it difficult to locate Mother. We can help you.”

The boy reached behind himself and grasped something that had been in his pocket. He handed it to his father. It was the hand tool that he had given to them so many years ago. Juel spoke,

“I don’t understand.” Now Shel spoke,

“Father, we have determined what this tool is for. It was told to us in a dream. All three of us had the same dream, and so it must be true.”

“Tell me of this dream.”

“In the dream, we were all working in your shop. All of us boys, you were there too. You were showing us how to use the axe, the saw, the chisel, all of your tools. You were so happy that we showed an interest in your livelihood. Each time you picked up a new tool, you would explain it to us and then demonstrate its usefulness. You had done this for many hours, showing us every item in your shop, when at last you came to the hand tool which we are now returning to you. You picked up this tool, but did not speak, for you knew not its usefulness. We waited for you to speak, but you remained silent. Just then, a customer came into the shop. He was an old man with a flowing white beard. He said,

“Have you done my work? Show me what you have done.”

In the dream, Father, you were caught off guard, and you showed a trace of fear. You said that you did not know this man and had done no work for him. The customer spoke again,

“I have given you an important job, much more important than anything else that you are doing. Show me the work that you have done. Delay me no further, I can see the tool in your hands. What have you done?”

Then you spoke, Father,

“I am sorry, good sir. But I do not know where this tool has come from, and I have not used it.”

The customer interrupted,

“You have used it. Look at it. Does this tool look new to you? You have used my tool. Show me what you have done.”

“This is your tool? So, you are my employer?”

“You tire me with these questions. When you were just becoming a man, I provided this tool to you, at no cost. I told you then that it must be returned, but that you could use it for your own purposes. Show me now. How have you responded to my gift?”

You looked at us then, Father, and the fear left your eyes. You spoke,

“I am sorry, sir, but I have no recollection of having ever used your tool. My life has been filled with providing for my family, tending to their injuries, and nurturing their strengths. Please, take back this tool along with my apologies for ignoring it all these years.”

The customer looked into your eyes, Father, as if to gauge your sincerity. Then he looked at us and seemed pleased. Then he said,

“You have done well, Juel. I do have need of this tool for other purposes. Please return it to me at my house. And when you come, dress appropriately. Marie waits for you there.”

At the mention of his wife’s name, Juel’s heart rejoiced, and the heat of his passion consumed the world around him.

The boys were gathered in the town square, making decisions about what was to be done and what arrangements would be needed to honor their father.

The day of the funeral was overcast and cold. The three sons stood near their father’s casket and remembered his goodness, his kindness. After the service was performed, the three stood apart from the remaining small crowd. Shel spoke to the other two,

“We must take care of each other now. Father has left us, but he has left us with much. I want you both to know that Arry is with child again. This child will be named after father, so that we may keep him in our memory and so that the world may know him. This is how I honor what needs to be honored.”

Gael spoke next,

“I constructed father’s casket. I did this for him because it is all that I can do, now. It was made with the finest materials and the finest craftsmanship in the region. This is how I honor what needs to be honored.”

Finally, Phinney spoke,

“I have no children, and I can craft nothing, but what I give to father is my song. When I play, when I compose, he is ever in my mind, and these thoughts of him are expressed to the world. This is how I honor what needs to be honored.”

As the boys were preparing to head back to town, Gael approached Phinney. He was holding the hand tool. He extended it to Phinney.

“Phinney, I received this tool from Shel many years ago, but I, too, have never understood its usefulness. I now have my own tools, and I am successful and happy in my calling. It is up to you now to discover why this tool was given to father, and then to us.”

Phinney took the hand tool that had been his father’s and then Shel’s, and then Gael’s. What was the meaning of this? If they had each achieved a happiness in their life without understanding the tool, then of what importance was it?

The three boys were ready now. They held hands and began the walk back to their home. Shel was thinking of Arry and his children. He knew they were thinking of him now, and this made him happy. Gael had a look of determination on his face. He would make his father proud with the work that he alone could do. Phinney was the only one not smiling. On his countenance was a look of wonder. Was his father looking down on all of them this very moment? Did his father now know the meaning of the tool? All these questions kept his mind afire. With his free hand, Phinney pulled the flute from his pocket, placed it to his lips, and allowed the music to ask the questions for him.