The Fruit of Happiness

4 Jul 2001

Once upon a time, a young prince sat unhappily on his throne. He was miserable. His father had died but a month before, leaving him the entire kingdom. Miles upon miles of land stretched out farther than the eagle could see, all of it his. The treasure room underneath the castle was overflowing with gems and gold, more than the prince could hope to spend in his lifetime. Men clamored to be invited into his court. Maidens surrounded him everywhere he went, hoping for a touch or a look. But the prince was not happy.

He summoned his advisors, and as the bearded old men shuffled into his throne room, he sighed. "O wise ones," he said, "I am unhappy. I have everything anyone could possibly wish for and more -- land, wealth, popularity -- and yet I seem unable to be satisfied. What am I missing?"

The oldest of the sages bent his head for a moment, then looked up. "Master," he said, "there is a tree not far off, at the mouth of the river, on which grows the fruit of happiness. You have but to pluck that fruit and eat, and you will be forever satisfied."

The prince's heart leapt up at this and immediately he gathered together a party to find this tree. Several hours later, when they arrived, the prince climbed down from his horse and stood in front of the tree.

It was old and gnarled, but not much taller than the young man himself. Dangling from the branches was a single fist-sized fruit, colored a vivid, lush red. It was the most beautiful thing the prince had ever seen. He reached out and pulled it off. It came easily.

But when he tried to bite into it, he found that he could not. It was as hard as stone. He looked at his advisor in surprise. "This is the tree you mentioned?" The sage nodded. "And this is the fruit of happiness?" He nodded again. "What then must I do to eat it?" The old man said nothing.

Just then the prince saw a little boy come skipping along. The child stopped in front of the prince, then looked at the fruit with big blue eyes. "Can I have it?" The young man frowned. "Child," he said, "I have sought for happiness so long, and now when it is within my grasp, will you try to take it away? Nay, boy, I am afraid you cannot have it."

The sage shook his head. "Master, it would do thee well to give the child the fruit."

"This is no time for joking," said the prince. "Have you turned against me as well?"

"Master," said the sage, "you asked for my advice. Will you not now take it?"

The prince sighed. "Very well. Here, child, here is the fruit. May you forever be happy with it."

The child grabbed the fruit with stubby hands and bit into it. Juice spurt out as the boy's eyes lit up in delight. He wiped his mouth and then put the fruit back in the prince's hand. "Thanks!" With that the child skipped off out of sight.

The prince looked at the fruit in his hand. He looked at his advisor. Then he bit into the fruit. His teeth sank into the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. It was like a thunderous waterfall, a beautiful summer day, a first love, and an overpowering excitement, all rolled into one. As he savored the taste, his heart seemed to be leaping across the world in giant bounds. The prince knew it was happiness.

When he had swallowed the last bit, he wiped the juice off his mouth. While he had been eating, another fruit had grown on the tree. The prince looked at it, then asked the sage, "Why could I not eat the fruit before?"

"Master," said the sage, "the only way to eat of the fruit of happiness is to give it to someone else. When you were only thinking of yourself, its skin hardened and you were unable to partake of its goodness. But when you stretched beyond yourself, when you thought of someone else, even though begrudgingly at first, when you gave the fruit to another, then and only then was the fruit yours."

The prince realized the truth in this and, for the rest of his life, gave the fruit of happiness to as many as he could. In return, he was never again unhappy.