Long ago, in a far distant land there was a man who had three sons. The eldest was named Aaron and he was a tall and fair man, with hair like the sun on a winter morining. The next was named Kaleb, and he was shorter than his brother, but deep chested and broad so that his appearance was like a bull and his strength like a young ox. The last son was named Pilgrim, for he was born in the midst of a great pilgrimage that the man had taken with his wife and sons to the oracle in the temple at Delphi.

Now, it happened that the youngest son's birth had been much different from his elder brothers, for his brothers had been born at home in the presence of birth mothers and at the time's of harvest, so that they were born great and strong men. The elder had been born on a most auspicious night, for he had been born at sunrise on the first day of summer, thus it was that his hair shown like the sun and his laugh radiated like a spring thaw. Kaleb had been born in the spring, when the cows were bringing forth their calves and the sheep their lambs, thus it was that he carried in him the strength of all such beast as roam the field and eat upon the heath. But the youngest, poor pilgrim that he was, had been born in the midst of winter deep in the heart of the mountains between their land and the great land of Greece. The youth was pale as the waning moon under which he had been born, and there was little grace in his pointed and sharp features. His eyes were deep and dark, but seemed too wide, as though he lived always in the depths of a cave.

The family had returned from pilgrimage with their young son weeping and gnashing his teeth. Always their child was seeking how he could provide for himself and his future. Always he was looking for how he could ensure his life and comfort. As a child he would hide food in the cupboards of his room, in case there was not enough at some future date. He would pretend to spend the money that his mother gave him on sweet meats, but always he would hide most of it away in case he should ever want. His father and mother were much troubled by this and sought always to ensure that he knew that he had no need to fear, for there was plenty and they had already ensured that he could never lack...but still he refused to believe their promises.

The older brothers were assured of their parents love and provision, so that they freely gave all that they had to anyone they came across, but not the youngest, for he always feared to give to freely lest he not have in the future.

It happened that one day, while they were still boys, the three brothers went to the fields to pick wild berries. The elder brothers wandered about laughing and jesting, eating as much as they saved and smearing themselves with juice. Young Pilgrim sat a ways away, industriously picking berries and putting them in his basket...not a one reached his mouth but all of them were placed directly into his basket where they would be safe until he could get them home. As they were picking they heard a someone crying, and the elder brothers went looking to find the cause the this noise and commotion. Around a bend they found a young girl, weeping as though the world would end. "What is wrong, my friend?" Asked Aaron, his pity quipped by the weeping.

"I was to bring home a basket of berries for my mother to make pie, but now I have dropped them and they are spread all over the ground and I'll never pick them up and this is just so horrible...and..." and she burst back into tears.

"Well, that will never do," said Kaleb. "Here, you must take our baskets of berries and go have your mother make that pie. My parents always have plenty of berries around the house, we'll never miss them." Of course, this was not exactly true, for though they often had berries around the house, these were the first of the season and so they would have not have berry pie if they did not bring home what they had picked, yet the girls weeping touched the brothers hearts deeply and they knew that though they might not have pie, still their would be plenty of food for them, for their parents always ensured that they had enough.

The young girl took the berries and looked at the two brothers with wonder. "You mean I can have them? Like to take home for my mother to make the pie!" Her voice, once shrill with weeping now sounded with the laughter and hope of a new day. She picked up the baskets they handed her and went running off to tell her mother that they could have pie after all.

The brothers watched her, laughing at her excitement and glee, before turning back to their brother and from there home. On the way home, young Pilgrim carried his basket carefully, making sure that no berry dropped on the path. Upon reaching the house he carefully carried his basket behind the house to a little storage shed under which he had dug a little seller. In the cellar he would hide all his treasures and here he placed the basket of berries, for it could easily be that a day would come when he would need them, and so they should be saved.

That evening at dinner time the boys sat at the table, enjoying the custard that their mother had made for dessert, but wondering why there were no berries on them; after all, their youngest brother had brought home a big basket of them. At last, Aaron could stand it no longer:

"Pilgrim, where are the berries that you picked? I thought that surely we would eat them tonight, before they rot and become useless."

"Those are my berries, and I must keep them in case I ever run out." The boys eyes narrowed, "Are you trying to take my berries from me?" The anger and suspicion in his voice was palpable.

"No, but they will go bad tomorrow if you leave them sitting."

Of course, Pilgrim's berries did go bad the next day and all had to be thrown out. Much to the disappointment of everyone, for now they had to go pick more and they did not even enjoy the fruit of their past labor.