“Penurious & Plenteous”

Many know the story of Romulus and Remus.  Twin sons of the god Mars, they were raised by a she-wolf in Italy in the late 3rd century BC.  After killing his brother, Romulus founded Rome, and he, along with his brother and the wolf, are the symbols of the city to this day.

Far less well known is the story of Penurious and Plenteous. They lived in the Southern Italian city of Cosenza in the 2nd century BC. The neighbors rarely spoke to each other despite living in the same city and making their living in the same noble fashion, farming.

Penurious had inherited his meager seventeen acre patch that ran up the east side of Tyrion Mountain from his father, along with a three room home and a barn in such ill repair that nothing of value could be stored within it. He barely scratched out a living for his family of six by growing and selling grapes to local wineries. Penurious’ land provided just enough income to feed his family with no cushion. He lived in a constant state of stress, as any infringement by insects, drought, or flood on his land’s productivity would mean there wouldn’t be enough food. This was to be his existence throughout life, since he couldn’t risk trying to grow different, more lucrative crops or using new techniques that might boost his farm’s production. His lack of education also left him with one and only one skill – farming. Penurious was boxed in by life.

Plenteous, on the other hand, lived quite a comfortable life with his family of five.  Educated by tutors in his youth, he became a merchant selling imported spices, herbs, tea, coffee and other food items in Italy imported from other Mediterranean countries. Eventually he used his accumulated wealth to buy an abandoned seventy-five acre farm that ran down the west side of Tyrion Mountain, replanted the vines, and produced his own proprietary wine with great success.   Plenteous now reaped the benefits of his education, hard work, and successful risk-taking. He lived peacefully.

After one blistering summer with July and August temperatures averaging over one hundred and five degrees, Penurious and his neighbors on the eastern side of the mountain (the “Easterners”) saw much of their crop wither and die on the vine.  Plenteous and the other grape growers on the western side (the “Westerners”) escaped this fate as the rains and fog protected their crops from the heat.  

Penurious faced disaster.  As that summer progressed, he knew the small harvest would mean he would be unable to answer when his children begged for more food that winter.  He and his family would have to exist on wheat pancakes, cucumbers and an occasional small piece of fish until the next year’s harvest. He even worried whether he could provide these basics.

The plight of Penurious and the other Easterners was known to Plenteous and the Westerners.  After the harvest, they brought food to these families out of kindness and the belief that is was their duty to help their fellow men when they experienced temporary need.  Penurious initially refused the help, but his children’s hungry eyes convinced him that he had to accept.

Unfortunately, the killing heat repeated on the eastern ridge for the next two summers.  Penurious was unable to grow a crop that met even half his family’s need, so he remained dependent on the generosity of neighbors.  When a fourth such summer descended on Cosenza, Plenteous and the other wealthy Westerners decided they could no longer provide food to the Easterners, including Penurious, as they had done in the prior three years. Despite their riches and the need of their neighbors, they acted to preserve their own situation; they believed that their neighbor’s need would never end, and that they would eternally bear responsibility for sustaining people who they doubted were as hard working and smart as they were.

Penurious had grown reliant on the support of his more well-to-do neighbors, so when he learned that they were no longer intending to provide him and his family with food to help them survive until the next harvest, he went to the regional magistrate who governed the area to plead for help. The magistrate had no money and no answers for Penurious, as the taxes he collected were for the sole benefit of the Emperor, but he promised to discuss his plight with the Roman Senate when he went there later that week.

After an anxious wait, Penurious returned to the magistrate’s office the following week and listened to the magistrate’s solution to his dilemma with reluctant relief.  The magistrate informed him that beginning with the current harvest, he would be collecting additional taxes from the prosperous farmers in Cosenza, which currently meant the Westerners, and he would then redistribute the money to those in need.  Penurious believed as a short term, emergency plan, this was an equitable solution, since the Westerners had wealth and luck far beyond their needs, and could certainly part with enough to help their neighbors during difficult times without impacting their lives in any way.  

The magistrate called together the heads of all the farming families in and around Cosenza and informed them of the new tax and its purpose.

Half the assembled group, the Easterners,  sat quietly absorbing the news, while Plenteous sprang to his feet, shouting, “Why should we give our money to them?  It’s not our fault their crops failed.  Maybe if they had saved more instead of spending all their money when the crop was good, they wouldn’t be in this situation!”

As he stood, Penurious angrily replied, “I spend nothing other than what I must to feed and clothe my family.  You know nothing of the eastern ridge and our situation, so don’t lecture us, Plenteous!  Trade places with me, and see the challenges we face, and then you can speak.”

“The handouts I’ve given you the last three years give me the right to speak now.  My initial charity seems to have doomed me to a lifetime of supporting your failed efforts. Should I just buy you and your family? Then at least I would get something back for my money,” said Plenteous.

Penurious pushed through the assembled crowd directly towards Plenteous with fire in his eyes.  It took three men to hold him back and lead him away, but as they did, he shouted, “I am a slave to no man!  I didn’t want your charity, but now I will take it since you give it so begrudgingly and only by order of the magistrate.”

The magistrate ordered everyone to sit and after a few moments of grumbling and hard glances, they did.   He admonished their behavior and reminded the Westerners of his authority and the consequences of defying his order, which were a tripling of any unpaid tax or seizure of their property.  The landowners left the meeting and returned to their homes, now divided and suspicious.

Penurious, being thoughtful in addition to proud, considered the state of affairs during the next harvest and over the winter.  He was certain that the ill will and enmity he felt towards the Westerners was returned.  But mostly, he wished to find a solution that allowed him to support his family himself, by the work of his own hands.

Plenteous, meanwhile, vacillated between feeling wronged by the tax and empathy for the plight of his neighbors.  He didn’t wish ill on them, but neither did he feel the handouts he was now forced to provide were going to permanently change the lives of the poor farmers on the eastern ridge.

Before the planting season the next year, Plenteous set out one day on the road over Tyrian Mountain towards the eastern ridge.  As he reached the high point of the road and before he began descending down the eastern slope, he saw Penurious approaching him on the same road.

“If you’ve come for another handout, you may as well return to your land,” said Plenteous, who wished he could withdraw the words immediately.

“I’ve come in the spirit of compromise, but I’m prepared to leave if I am to be insulted further,” said Penurious.

“State your compromise, and I will consider it,” said Plenteous.

“I and the other Easterners do not wish to live a life both dependent and indebted to anyone.  Our issue is not of our making, as we have worked as hard as any man to make a living.  But our land and the climate work against us in growing our grapes.   We believe this land was never intended to support this crop, so we propose to rip out our vines and instead plant beans, cucumbers, melons, onions and peppers which can thrive in such conditions.  But, we have no money to make this change,” said Penurious.

“So it is a handout you seek!” said Plenteous.

“No, Plenteous, we seek a permanent end to this.  We need support for a season in order to replant these crops which will then abundantly support our families.  If the Westerners can grant us a loan to accomplish this, we will repay with interest through the money we will make selling our new crops over the following two harvests,” said Penurious.

Plenteous paused in consideration.  When he spoke, he said, “I know your plight is not of your doing or desire.  I, too, seek compromise.  I am willing to support your plan to the Westerners on one condition.”

“Which is?”

“That we be allowed to establish a school in the eastern ridge to educate your children.  We would pay for the operation of the school for the first five years after which time the Easterners will take responsibility,” said Plenteous.

“Why would you be willing to do this?” asked Penurious suspiciously.

“As a child, I benefitted from tutoring that opened my world to opportunity.  I believe part of the real answer to your problem is to give your children the same chance I had so that they too might be able to be everything they are capable of being – the best merchants, the best architects, or even the best farmers. We see this as an investment that would free us from supporting your land in the future, and free you from humbling yourselves,” said Plenteous.

The two men stood and considered each other for a moment in silence, and then Penurious extended his hand.  Plenteous grasped it and said, “I will need to confer with the other Westerners.”

“And I with my neighbors.  Let us do so and meet back here in two days.”

On both men’s part, it took considerable argument to convince their neighbors to accept these terms, but they eventually did.  Plenteous and Penurious went together before the magistrate and told him of their agreement.  The magistrate happily suspended the unpopular tax and allowed the neighbors the opportunity to work together to solve their problems.  The Easterners, using the loan provided by the Westerners, tore out their vines, purchased the seeds for their new crops and planted them, working harder than they ever had before.  And they were proven right when the new crops took well to their land and produced bountiful harvests over the next two years, allowing the Easterners to repay the loan as agreed, and from then on to be not only self-sufficient, but in the best situation of their lives.  The school also launched, and all children between the ages of six and thirteen attended each day, although for shorter sessions during planting and harvesting season when their help was needed on their farms.   This seed also took root, and the subsequent generations of the eastern ridge prospered.

Soon, there were no Westerners and Easterners.  All were now simply countrymen, neighbors, and friends.