Blessed are those who find wisdom those who gain understanding … She is more precious than rubies; nothing you desire can compare with her … She is a tree of life to those who take hold of her; those who hold her fast will be blessed. Proverbs 3:13, 15, 18
When old Isaque passed away, he left his two grandsons, Miguel and Gabriel, a peculiar inheritance. To Miguel, the older, a pragmatic stockbroker, he left his stock portfolio, a solid estate accumulated over decades. To Gabriel, a history teacher with more books than money, he left the old family house and a note.
The note read: “My son, to you, I leave the greatest treasure. In the yard, you will find the tree of life. Take care of it, and it will take care of you.”
Miguel laughed when he learned of the division.
“Grandpa was always poetic,” he said, as his app was already calculating the stock dividends. “You got an old piece of land and a metaphor. I got the future.”
Gabriel, however, knew his grandfather. He knew his words were never empty. He moved into the old house, a simple place, but full of memories. In the backyard, there was a magnificent, ancient oak tree. Its roots swelled the earth, and its canopy seemed to touch the sky. Gabriel understood. That was the “tree of life.”
While Miguel plunged into the frenzy of the financial market, Gabriel immersed himself in the books and diaries he found in his grandfather’s library. They were volumes of history, philosophy, theology, and, above all, Isaque’s personal notes in his Bibles. Every book read, every one of his grandfather’s reflections deciphered, was like watering the roots of that tree. He was not seeking wealth; he was seeking wisdom.
The years passed. Miguel multiplied his assets. He became immensely wealthy, a respected name in social columns. But his life was a whirlwind. Broken marriages, self-serving friendships, a void that not even the most expensive apartment could fill. The relentless pursuit of more silver and rubies had left him anxious and lonely. His paths were those of a rich man, but not those of a man at peace.
Gabriel, in turn, flourished under the shade of the oak. The wisdom he acquired did not make him rich, but prosperous. He learned from his grandfather the art of listening, the importance of forgiveness, the value of community. He became the unofficial counselor of the neighborhood. His students adored him, not just for his history lessons, but for his life lessons. He married, had children, and his house, though simple, was always full of laughter and friends. His ways were pleasant, and his paths were full of peace.
The financial crisis of 2029 hit the market like a hurricane. Miguel, who had bet everything on high-risk investments, lost almost everything. The house of cards collapsed. Alone and broken, he drove to the only property the family still had: his grandfather’s old house.
He found Gabriel sitting under the oak tree, reading to his children. The place radiated a peace that Miguel had not felt in decades.
“You were right, Biel,” Miguel said, his voice choked with defeat. “Grandpa gave you the real treasure. I chased the wind and ended up with nothing.”
Gabriel closed the book and looked at his brother with compassion.
“You didn’t end up with nothing, Miguel. You still have us.” He pointed to the house. “There’s a guest room waiting for you. What I have, I will share with you.”
That afternoon, as he watched his nephews play, Miguel finally understood his grandfather’s note. The “tree of life” was not the oak. It was the wisdom that his grandfather had planted, and that Gabriel had cultivated. A wisdom that produced fruits money could not buy: contentment, solid relationships, peace of mind, and, above all, a safe harbor for a shipwrecked brother.
He had lost his rubies, but his brother was offering him something infinitely more precious. He was being invited to rest in the shade of the true tree of life.
(Made with AI)
This story is part of my book Everyday Wisdom






