The Miser and His Gold
A musical retelling of Aesop's fable about a man who buried his gold, checked it every day, and the morning the hole was empty
Dig dig dig, hide hide hide, Put the gold in the ground, push the dirt to the side. Pat it down, smooth it flat, Nobody knows where my treasure is at!
Monday -- check. Tuesday -- check. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday -- check! Is it there? Is it safe? Is it still in its place? The miser would peek with a smile on his face.
He never bought bread. He never bought cheese. He never gave gifts. He never said "please Take some of my gold and go buy something nice." He just dug it up, looked, and buried it twice.
His coat was all tattered, his shoes full of holes, His house was so cold -- he had no burning coals. But under the garden, a fortune sat still, Just sitting there, sitting there, under the hill.
One morning he crept To his spot in the ground, He dug and he dug -- But the gold wasn't found!
Gone! Gone! Every coin, every bit! He wailed and he howled, he threw himself in the pit. "My gold! Oh my gold! Who has taken my treasure?!" He wept and he sobbed beyond any measure.
A neighbor walked by and she heard all the noise, "My gold has been stolen! My fortune! My hoard! I buried it here -- every coin that I stored!"
The neighbor just looked at him, tilted her head: "But did you ever spend any of it?" she said. "Of course not! I'd never spend one single piece! I just looked at it daily -- it gave me such peace!"
"Well then," said the neighbor, "Here's what you should do: Go bury a stone In the hole -- it's as good as brand-new.
You never once used it, You never once shared, A stone in a hole Does as much as the gold that was there."
So the miser dropped a stone in the hole, Patted the dirt back down, and went home. Monday -- check. Tuesday -- check. A stone in a hole. A hole with a stone.
Dig dig dig, hide hide hide. A stone in the ground where the gold once lay. A torn old coat. A cold, dark room. And a hole he checks every day.