“A bag filled with gold,” the old man asked quietly, “or a clay tablet carved with words of wisdom. Which would you choose?”

For a moment, the gathering fell silent.

The people glanced at one another, as if searching their neighbors’ faces for the correct answer.

Then smiles appeared. The smiles turned into laughter, and the laughter into excited chatter.

“The gold!” several voices shouted at once.
“Of course the gold!”

The people who sat in the circle spoke loudly and confidently. Their eyes shone brightly, as if they already felt the weight of glittering coins in their hands.

Some imagined themselves pouring the gold onto the floor, watching it scatter like drops of sunlight.

Others dreamed of a bag so heavy it could barely be lifted.

Yet a few among them did not laugh. They sat quietly, studying the old man, trying to understand why such a simple question had been asked.

Old Kalabab observed them all with patient eyes.

A slow, knowing smile spread across his face.

“Listen,” he said gently, raising his hand so the laughter would fade.

The group gradually quieted.

“You remind me of hungry animals,” he continued. “When hunger torments them, they cry and complain. But the moment food is placed before them, they devour it without thinking.”

He paused.

“They never ask where the next meal will come from.”

The smiles faded. In their place appeared puzzled expressions.

“It is much the same with men,” Kalabab went on calmly.

“When offered a choice between gold and wisdom, many choose the gold.”

“They spend it freely. And when it disappears, they complain that fortune has abandoned them.”

He leaned forward slightly, his voice steady and certain.

“But gold does not abandon men without reason.”

“Gold follows laws. And it serves only those who understand them.”

Kalabab loosened his robe and set it aside before lowering himself to sit beside the fire.

The flames flickered softly, casting shifting shadows across the faces of those gathered around him.

“Now listen carefully,” he said.

“If you wish your future to be different from your present, then hear what I am about to tell you.”

“This is a story about the Five Laws of Gold.”

“If you understand them… and if you allow them to guide your life… then one day gold will come to you as surely as rivers flow toward the sea.”

The old man fell silent for a moment.

A warm summer breeze drifted through the gathering. It lifted tiny sparks from the fire and carried them upward toward the dark and shimmering sky.

Kalabab raised his hand and pointed toward a bright star glowing above them.

“Long ago,” he said slowly, “there lived a man in Babylon.”

“He was a wise man.”

“And he was the richest man who had ever lived in that great city.”

A young woman leaned forward eagerly.

“I have heard of him!” she said with excitement.

Kalabab nodded and smiled kindly.

“That does not surprise me.”

Realizing she had spoken too quickly, the woman blushed. She quickly pulled her scarf over her cheeks and lowered her gaze while those around her chuckled softly.

“Yes,” Kalabab continued. “Many people have heard of him.”


“His name was Arkad.”

The old man’s voice grew thoughtful, as if he were remembering distant days.

“Many years ago, in the great city of Nineveh, when I was still a young man, I met someone who knew Arkad very well.”

“I met his son.”

“And it was from him that I learned the wisdom I will now share with you.”

Kalabab folded his hands in his lap and gazed thoughtfully into the fire.

“The story I will tell you,” he said slowly, “was told to me many years ago by Nomasir himself, the son of Arkad.”

The listeners drew closer and closer.

“When I was a young man,” Kalabab continued, “my mentor and I traveled to Nineveh with a caravan of traders. We carried with us many fine rugs, woven by skilled hands and dyed in rich colors.”

“Our hope was to sell them to wealthy men of the city.”

Word soon reached us that Nomasir, son of the great Arkad, was seeking rugs of the finest quality for his palace.

So we went to see him.

Kalabab smiled softly at the memory.

“He received us with kindness.”

“We laid our rugs before him, crimson, gold, and deep blue, each more beautiful than the last.”

Nomasir studied them carefully.

At last he chose several and paid generously.

Then he surprised us.

“Stay,” he said warmly. “You have brought beauty into my home. Sit with me and share a drink.”

We followed him into another room of the palace.

Even now, after many years, I remember it clearly.

The room was magnificent.

Handcrafted furniture stood along the walls, carved with delicate designs that only master artisans could create. Soft music drifted through the air from musicians seated near the far wall.

In the center of the room burned a small fire pit, surrounded by thick rugs and cushions.

“Please,” Nomasir said with a welcoming gesture, “make yourselves comfortable.”

We sat.

With a quiet signal of his hand, Nomasir summoned members of his household.

Soon servants entered carrying plates filled with fruits, sweet cakes, roasted meats, and other delicacies. They also brought jars of rare wine and strong date beer.

The aromas filled the room.

We ate and drank until we were satisfied.

After a time, Nomasir leaned back thoughtfully and looked at us.

“My friends,” he said, “you are merchants. Men who travel and seek fortune.”

“That reminds me of a story.”

“It is the story of how my father taught me the true nature of gold.”

Kalabab paused and looked around the circle of listeners before continuing.

“Nomasir began his tale like this.”

“In Babylon,” Nomasir said, “it is common for the sons of wealthy men to remain in their fathers’ houses.”

“They live comfortably, knowing that one day they will inherit great wealth.”

“But my father, Arkad, did not believe this was the right path.”

“When I came of age, he summoned me to stand before him.”

Nomasir straightened his back slightly as he recalled the moment.

“My son,” Arkad said to me, “one day I wish you to inherit all that I possess.”

“But before that day comes, you must prove that you are capable of using wealth wisely.”

I nodded, for I respected my father deeply.

Then he continued.

“I want you to leave Babylon and travel the world.”

“Go to distant cities. Learn how men earn gold and how they lose it.”

“Show me that you can both acquire wealth and earn the respect of others.”

Then my father brought forth two things.

The first was a heavy leather bag.

“This bag,” he said, placing it in my hands, “contains gold. It can become the foundation of your future wealth if you use it wisely.”

Then he gave me something else.

A small clay tablet.

“Upon this tablet,” he said, “are carved the Five Laws of Gold.”

“If you understand these laws and follow them faithfully, they will bring security to you and to those you love.”

Then he looked at me with calm certainty.

“Return to me in ten years,” he said.

“And tell me what you have learned.”

Ten years passed.

And the day finally arrived when Nomasir returned to Babylon.

Arkad prepared a great feast in honor of his son’s return.

Friends, relatives, and respected citizens gathered in the grand hall of the house.

Musicians played gentle melodies while servants prepared the evening meal.

When night fell, Arkad and his wife took their places on seats that stood like thrones above the gathering.

Oil lamps glowed softly throughout the hall.

Their smoke hung lightly in the air, giving the room a dreamlike haze.

Servants dressed in white garments moved gracefully through the room, fanning the warm air with long palm leaves.

At last the doors opened.

Nomasir entered the hall with his wife, his children, and members of his household.

The musicians stopped playing.

All eyes turned toward him.

He stepped forward and bowed respectfully before his father.

“My father,” he began, “I stand before you grateful for your wisdom.”

“Ten years ago you sent me away so that I might learn to become a man among men rather than a slave to your fortune.”

“You gave me gold.”

“And you gave me wisdom.”

He paused.

“Of the gold…” he continued slowly, “I must confess that I handled it poorly.”

A murmur passed through the crowd.

“The gold fled from my hands like a wild hare escaping a careless hunter.”

Arkad smiled gently.

“Continue, my son,” he said. “Your story interests me greatly.”

Nomasir stood before the gathering. The hall was silent except for the faint crackling of the oil lamps.

“My father,” he said, “after leaving Babylon I traveled with a caravan toward Nineveh.”

“It was a growing city, filled with traders and opportunity. I believed that there I would find my fortune.”

“During the journey I made many acquaintances among the travelers.”

He took a moment to reminisce.

“Among them were two men who spoke well and carried themselves with confidence. They owned a magnificent white horse—swift and powerful.”

“As we traveled across the desert, they often spoke of a wealthy man in Nineveh who owned a famous racing horse.”

“They told me that its owner boasted constantly that no horse in the world could outrun it.”

“They also said that this man was so confident that he would wager enormous sums of gold against any challenger.”

Nomasir looked down before continuing.

“My companions laughed at this.”

“They claimed their own horse could defeat it easily.”

“They told me that the famous horse of Nineveh was little more than a lumbering donkey compared to theirs.”

“Then they offered me what they called a rare opportunity.”

“They said that if I joined them in placing a wager, we could win a great fortune together.”

Nomasir shook his head slightly.

“I was young,” he said. “And I believed them.”

“So I agreed.”

“Our horse ran… and lost badly.”

A ripple of quiet laughter moved through the crowd.

“I lost much of the gold you had given me.”

Arkad laughed softly, not with mockery, but with understanding.

“And later,” Nomasir continued, “I discovered the truth.”

“The two men who had convinced me were swindlers.”

“The owner of the horse in Nineveh was their partner.”

“Together they traveled with caravans searching for foolish young men like myself.”

“When they found one, they arranged their race and divided the winnings afterward.”

He lifted his head.

“That was the first lesson life taught me about gold.”

“Gold disappears quickly when its owner trusts the words of strangers more than his own judgment.”

Nomasir stood quietly for a moment after describing the loss of his gold in the horse race.

Then he continued.

“My misfortune did not end there,” he said.

“During that same journey I became friends with another young traveler.

He too was the son of wealthy parents and, like me, had left home hoping to find his fortune in Nineveh.”

“We spoke often of business and opportunity.”

“He seemed clever and ambitious, and I believed him to be a man of good intentions.”

When we arrived in Nineveh, he came to me one morning with excitement shining in his eyes.

“Fortune has favored us!” he declared.

He explained that a merchant had recently died. His shop, along with its goods and loyal customers, could be purchased for a very small price.

“It is a rare opportunity,” he told me.

“If we buy the shop together, we will soon grow rich.”

He proposed that we become equal partners.

“But first,” he said, “I must travel back to Babylon to collect my share of gold.”

While he made the journey, he suggested that I purchase the shop using my own gold.

“When I return,” he promised, “my gold will strengthen our business and allow it to grow.”

Nomasir sighed softly as he recalled those days.

“I believed him,” he said.

“So I used much of my remaining gold to buy the shop and its goods.”

For a while things seemed hopeful.

But the days passed.

Then weeks.

Then months.

My partner delayed his journey again and again.

Meanwhile he proved himself to be a careless buyer and an even more careless spender.

He filled the shop with goods that no one wanted to buy.

He wasted money freely.

At last I realized that the business was failing.

By the time I forced him to leave our partnership, it was already too late.

The shop was filled with unsellable goods.

There was no gold left with which to purchase better merchandise.

In the end, I sold what remained to an Israelite merchant for a miserable price.

Thus my second venture ended in failure.

Nomasir’s voice grew quieter.

“My father,” he said, “there followed bitter days.”

“I searched everywhere for employment.”

“But I had no trade. No skill that merchants valued.”

“And so no one would hire me.”

One by one, the possessions he had brought from Babylon disappeared.

First he sold the horses.

Then the slave who had traveled with him.

Later even his extra robes were sold.

Each coin he received bought only a few more days of food and shelter.

“Poverty crept closer to me with each passing day,” he said.

Behind him, his mother quietly wiped tears from her eyes.

“But during those difficult days I remembered something important.”

Nomasir continued.

“I remembered the clay tablet you had given me.”

“At last I took it out and studied the words carefully.”

He paused, letting the words settle in the room. Then he continued, carefully reading from the tablet for all to hear:

1. Gold comes gladly and in increasing quantity to any man who sets aside no less than one-tenth of his earnings to create an estate for his future and the future of his family.
“Consistent saving is the seed from which wealth grows. One must live, but never forget to put aside for tomorrow. I have witnessed it with my own hands: gold that is saved multiplies and works tirelessly for its owner.”

2. Gold works diligently and contentedly for the wise owner who finds a profitable use for it, multiplying like the flocks of the field.
“Gold is not idle. It is eager to grow when entrusted to a plan, and over time, it rewards the patience and judgment of the one who understands it.”

3. Gold clings to the protection of the cautious owner who invests it under the advice of those skilled in handling it.
“A wise investor seeks guidance and never trusts alone. Gold stays safe when decisions are informed by experience and prudence.”

4. Gold slips away from the man who invests in businesses or purposes he does not understand, or which are not approved by those skilled in that work.
“Opportunities may seem tempting, but without knowledge, they can bring ruin. Only the counsel of the skilled can safeguard your treasure.”

5. Gold flees the man who tries to force it to earn impossible returns, or who follows the advice of tricksters and schemers, or trusts his own inexperience and romantic desires in investment.
“Beware of magic promises and hasty adventures. Wealth grows slowly, steadily, and only when handled with care and wisdom.”

“I read the Five Laws of Gold again and again.”

“And I realized something painful.”

“If I had understood their meaning earlier, I would never have lost your gold.”

“But wisdom learned late can still guide the future.”

“So I memorized each law.”

“And I made a promise to myself.”

“If fortune ever smiled upon me again, I would follow those laws faithfully.”

“I would no longer be guided by the reckless confidence of youth.”

“I would be guided by wisdom.”

“At last,” Nomasir continued, “fortune did return.”

“I found employment managing a group of slaves who were building the great outer wall of Nineveh.”

The work was not glorious.

But it gave him something he had not had in many months.

A steady income.

Remembering the first law, he began saving.

From every payment he received, he set aside a small portion.

A copper coin at first.

Then another.

And another.

“It was slow,” he admitted.

“A man must still eat and live.”

“But I spent carefully, determined that my savings would grow.”

One day the master builder who oversaw the work spoke to him.

“You are a careful young man,” the builder said.

“You do not waste the wages you earn.”

“Tell me, have you saved some gold?”

“Yes,” Nomasir replied.

“It is my greatest desire to replace the gold my father gave me and that I lost through my foolishness.”

The builder nodded thoughtfully.

“Then you should know something important,” he said.

“Gold that sits idle earns nothing.”

“But gold that is wisely invested begins to work for its owner.”

Nomasir felt uneasy.

“My earlier experiences with gold were painful,” he admitted.

“I fear that if I invest my savings, it may run away from me again.”

The builder smiled.

“Perhaps,” he said.

“But if you are willing to trust wise counsel, I can show you a way to invest it safely.”

Then he explained a plan.

Within a year the massive city wall would be completed.

Soon afterward the king would demand enormous bronze gates to protect the city.

But there was not enough copper and tin in Nineveh to produce such gates.

“Here is our opportunity,” the builder said.

“A group of us will combine our gold.”

“We will send a caravan to distant mines to purchase the metals needed.”

“When the king commands the gates to be made, we will be the only ones able to supply the materials.”

“And the price we receive will reward us well.”

“If for some reason the king does not buy them, we will still possess valuable metal that can easily be sold.”

Nomasir thought carefully.

This time he remembered the third law of gold.

Gold clings to the cautious owner who invests it under the advice of wise men.

So he joined the venture.

And this time, fortune favored him.

The caravan returned with copper and tin.

Soon afterward the king ordered the great gates to be built.

The metal was purchased at a high price.

Nomasir’s small savings multiplied many times over.

The Three Bags of Gold

Nomasir then called a servant and had three heavy leather bags brought forward.

“You gave me a bag of Babylonian gold,” he said, placing one before his father.

“I return to you a bag of Nineveh gold of equal weight.”

He lifted the other two.

“And for the wisdom you inscribed upon the clay tablet, I return two bags of gold.

Your wisdom is far more valuable than gold itself. Without it, wealth is lost; with it, even modest beginnings can grow beyond imagination.”

Arkad, his father, placed his hand on Nomasir’s head.

“You have learned well son.
I am proud to entrust my fortune to you.”

Kalabab’s Final Lesson

Old Kalabab looked around the circle of listeners, their faces lit by the fire.


“Do you see now?” he asked gently.

“Gold does not come to the careless. It does not stay with the impulsive.

Those who follow its laws, who honor patience, discipline, and wise counsel, will find it a loyal servant.”

“Remember the tale of Nomasir.
He was like you once eager, impatient, hungry for quick wealth.

Yet through trials, loss, and study of wisdom, he became wealthy and respected.”

“Do not blame fate.

Do not envy the gold of others. Learn the laws of gold. Follow them.

And your life, too, can be filled with abundance, security, and respect.”

The listeners sat quietly, the fire casting long shadows as Kalabab’s words sank deep into their hearts.

For the first time, the idea of gold became more than wealth, it became a reflection of discipline, wisdom, and the careful shaping of one’s destiny.

And under the stars of Babylon that night, a new understanding settled upon them:

gold is the servant of wisdom, and wisdom is the path to a prosperous life.