Once upon a time there lived a man who owned a very special tree—a cornucopia tree.
Now, as we all know, the word “cornucopia” comes from the Latin word meaning “horn of plenty.” In ancient mythology, it was said to produce an endless supply of food and drink. Even today, Americans display a cornucopia at their Thanksgiving table as a symbol of gratitude for all the Lord has given us.
Well, this cornucopia tree produced everything the man’s family needed to survive. From its branches grew food and drink, wood to build and heat their house, and even the clothes they wore.
(Yes, clothes. Don’t ask how the tree managed that. It just did.)
One day the cornucopia tree produced something it had never produced before—two identical eggs.
The man, now very old, saw them and understood their meaning. So he called his two sons.
“Boys,” he said, “this tree has given our family everything we have ever needed. Now it has given each of you something as well—two seeds, so that each of you may grow your own cornucopia tree.”
“But,” asked the eldest son, “why would we need to grow more cornucopia trees? This one has always provided exactly what we’ve needed.”
“Yes, that is true,” answered the father, “but this tree is old and won’t be around much longer. You must help these seeds grow into mature trees, so the new cornucopia trees can continue to provide your own families with what they will need to live on.”
So the sons took the seeds, planted them, nurtured them, and eventually each had his own cornucopia tree. From its branches, they built their families’ houses big enough for their needs, fed their young families, and kept them in warm clothes. All was well, and the two sons—now grown men—enjoyed pleasant, though modest, lives.
One day a stranger from far away appeared before the eldest son. He wore fancy clothes and an even fancier smile. He offered to buy the cornucopia tree. The eldest son asked the visitor why he should do such a thing. After all, he and his family already had everything they needed.
“But don’t you want more?” queried the stranger.
The firstborn looked around, then said, “Sure enough, our house could be a little bit bigger, my family’s clothes could be a little fancier, and by golly I would sure like to have an opulent feast every now and then, but, all the same, thank you very much. We already have enough to live on.” With that, the man left.
Soon the outsider came upon the younger son and again offered to buy his tree. Again the son replied that the tree already gave his family everything it needed. What could the stranger possibly offer to make him sell it?
This time, the out-of-towner came prepared. “Why,” he began with a churlish smile, “this house seems a little tight for your growing family—wouldn’t they be better off with something a little bigger? I could offer you that. And those clothes your family wears—no one wears that style anymore. Wouldn’t it be nice if your family were viewed with respect as they travel through town? I can furnish that. And when’s the last time you really celebrated an occasion with a fabulous feast? Wouldn’t it be great to have a sumptuous banquet every night for the next five years? I can give you that. Why wait for the tree to produce all this when I can bestow it upon you today?”
The younger son thought about this. The stranger was right. Why should he wait? His family could benefit immediately. So, the young son sold his cornucopia tree to the stranger. And with the money, he built a bigger house—and he wasn’t worried about keeping it warm, because he could buy all the firewood he needed. He used the money to buy fancy clothes for his family. For the next five years he bought his family a grand feast every night. His older brother looked on, content to live in a cramped house, wear yesterday’s fashions, and eat only what was needed.
Then, after five years, something happened. The younger son had used up all the money. He could no longer heat his house. The fancy clothes he bought shortly after selling the cornucopia tree were no longer in fashion. Worse still, he had no food to feed his starving family. He sold the house to buy food—but that left them with nowhere to live. Soon even that money ran out, and his family starved again.
The older brother watched with pity. He’d offer to share his cornucopia tree with his brother, but then he and his family would have less—and they had just enough to survive now. But blood runs deep. The plight of the younger brother saddened him immensely. Despite the consequences to his own family, he invited his brother’s family to live in his house and share his clothes and food.
And wouldn’t you know it—the moment the younger brother moved in, the older brother’s cornucopia tree began producing more. Each family had enough to live on, and they were forever thankful for the cornucopia tree.
From that day forward, neither brother forgot what the tree had truly given them.
So the next time someone offers you an incredible deal for something you’re already satisfied with, think twice before trading a lifetime of security for a few years of gratification.




Author’s Note: I used to watch a lot of Bullwinkle the Moose when I was a kid. The show had a little diversion called “Fractured Fairy Tales.” I wrote this piece in that style, meaning, while ostensibly written for a child, it contained just enough to keep an adult interested. It was always my intention to tell this story at a Cub Scout pack meeting, but the opportunity never arose.