The Stolen Farthings

Once upon a time, in a humble cottage at the edge of a small village, there lived a poor man with his young son. The father worked hard every day, but they barely had enough money for food and shelter. Despite their poverty, the father had taught his son to always be honest and never take what did not belong to him.

“Remember, my child,” the father would often say, “it is better to be poor and honest than wealthy and dishonest. Our good name is worth more than any treasure.”

The little boy took these words to heart and grew up to be truthful and kind. However, one day, when he was playing in the village square, he found two small farthings lying in the dust. Farthings were the smallest coins in the land, worth very little, but to a poor child, they seemed like a great treasure.

The boy looked around to see if anyone had dropped the coins. He saw a merchant packing up his stall nearby, but the man had not noticed the fallen coins. For a moment, the child hesitated, remembering his father’s teachings about honesty.

“They’re just two small farthings,” the boy whispered to himself. “The merchant has so much money, he probably won’t even miss them. And father and I are so hungry…”

Against his better judgment and the lessons his father had taught him, the boy picked up the farthings and slipped them into his pocket. He told himself it wasn’t really stealing since he had found them on the ground, but deep in his heart, he knew the coins belonged to the merchant.

The boy hurried home with the farthings hidden in his pocket. That evening, when his father was not looking, he hid the coins under a loose floorboard in his small bedroom. He planned to use them to buy bread when his father was away.

However, the weight of his dishonest act pressed heavily on the child’s conscience. That night, he tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep peacefully. He felt guilty about taking the coins and even more guilty about hiding his actions from his beloved father.

Days passed, and the boy grew pale and sickly. The guilt of his secret weighed on him like a heavy stone in his chest. He could not enjoy his meals, he could not play with his friends, and he could not look his father in the eye without feeling shame.

“What troubles you, my son?” his father asked with concern. “You seem so sad and worried lately.”

But the boy could not bring himself to confess what he had done. He was too ashamed and too afraid of disappointing his father.

Within a few weeks, the poor child fell seriously ill. The burden of his guilty conscience, combined with his already weak constitution from their poor diet, proved too much for his small body to bear. Despite his father’s loving care and all the remedies they could afford, the boy grew weaker and weaker.

On his deathbed, the child finally found the courage to speak. With his last breath, he whispered to his father, “The farthings… under the floorboard… they don’t belong to me…”

But before he could say more, the little boy passed away, leaving his heartbroken father alone with these mysterious final words.

The father mourned his son deeply, but he was puzzled by the boy’s last words about farthings. He searched under the floorboard in his son’s room and discovered the two small coins hidden there. Though he could not understand how his honest son had come to possess them, he suspected they had been obtained dishonestly.

After the funeral, the father tried to return to his normal life, but strange things began to happen in their cottage. Every night, he would hear the sound of small footsteps pacing back and forth in his son’s room. When he went to investigate, he would find the room empty, but cold and filled with an overwhelming sense of sadness.

Then, one moonlit night, the father saw his deceased son standing at the foot of his bed. The child’s spirit looked pale and troubled, pointing toward his old room with a sorrowful expression.

“My son!” the father cried out. “Why can’t you rest in peace?”

The child’s ghost spoke in a voice as soft as the wind: “Father, I cannot find rest until the wrong I did is made right. The two farthings under my floorboard were stolen from the merchant in the village square. I took them when I found them, knowing they were not mine. This dishonesty weighs on my soul and prevents me from finding peace in the afterlife.”

The father’s heart broke to learn of his son’s suffering, both in life and in death. “My dear child, why did you not tell me while you were alive? I would have helped you return them.”

“I was too ashamed, father,” the spirit replied. “I feared you would be disappointed in me. But now I see that honesty would have been better than carrying this burden alone.”

Without hesitation, the father rose from his bed and retrieved the two farthings from their hiding place. Even though it was the middle of the night, he walked to the village and found the merchant’s house. He knocked on the door and, when the merchant appeared, explained the entire situation.

“Here are two farthings that belong to you,” the father said, holding out the small coins. “My son found them and took them, and his guilty conscience made him ill until he died. His spirit cannot rest until they are returned to their rightful owner.”

The merchant was moved by this story of honesty and the father’s dedication to his son’s memory. “Keep the farthings,” the merchant said kindly. “I had not even noticed they were missing. But I am touched by your son’s conscience and your own integrity.”

“No,” the father replied firmly. “My son’s spirit specifically asked that these be returned to you. Only then can he find peace.”

The merchant accepted the farthings, understanding the importance of this act to both the father and his son’s troubled spirit.

That very night, when the father returned home, he found his cottage filled with a warm, peaceful feeling. His son’s spirit appeared one final time, but now the child looked serene and happy.

“Thank you, father,” the spirit said with a gentle smile. “The farthings have been returned, and my conscience is clear. Now I can rest in peace, knowing that the wrong has been made right.”

With these words, the child’s spirit faded away in a soft, golden light, and the father felt a profound sense of peace wash over him. Though he still mourned his son’s death, he was comforted to know that the boy’s soul was now at rest.

From that day forward, the father told this story to everyone he met, emphasizing the importance of honesty in all things, no matter how small. “Even two small farthings,” he would say, “can weigh heavier on the conscience than a mountain of gold if they are not honestly earned.”

And so the tale reminds us that our integrity and peace of mind are worth more than any material treasure, and that dishonesty, no matter how minor it may seem, can cause suffering that lasts far beyond this life.