ONCE upon a time, in a far-off city there lived a man called Hanan.
On one of his fingers he wore a beautiful gold ring.
It had been in his family for generations, passing down from father to son.
It was a magic ring, anyone who wore it became wise and just and kind.
So, Hanan was loved by all.
But Hanan had three sons.
He loved each one dearly.
Which son, he wondered, should he leave his ring to after his death?
His answer was to have two more rings made, both identical to the one on his finger.
Just before Hanan died, he called each of his sons to him separately.
Without telling the others, he gave the son standing before him a ring.
Of course, after his death it was not long before the brothers found out that there were now three rings instead of one.
Soon they were quarrelling over which was truly the magic one.
After some days they decided to consult a judge.
He looked long and carefully at the rings before speaking.
“I have examined all three rings and I cannot see any difference between them.
“But it will be you who prove which is the magic ring.”
“How will we do that?” the sons asked.
“Well,” the judge replied, “if your father’s ring makes whoever wears it wise and just and kind, then it will be plain to everyone which of you has it by the way you live your life.
“So, go now and in all you do be wise and just and kind.
“Then you will show everyone that you are the true owner of the magic ring.”
JOE DUNTHORN
St Peter’s Catholic Church
Cirencester
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