The Bundle of Chopsticks

Two hands squeeze a bundle of chopsticks with all their strength, and the whole bundle stays whole. It will not break. Yet loosen the string and take the chopsticks one at a time, and a single flick of the fingers snaps each one in half. This simple picture has followed the Vietnamese for generations, through primary school textbooks and through the tales that grandparents tell their grandchildren by the fire. Behind it stands a story about a father and his sons, and about what he wanted to leave them before he closed his eyes.

Long ago, a father had many sons. As the boys grew up, each had his own temper and his own worries. Soon the brothers were quarreling and taunting one another, and sometimes one would refuse to look at another for a whole week. The father heard it all and felt deeply sad. He urged them to stop, but his words held for only a few days, and then everything went back to the way it was.

Then one day the father fell ill. The illness grew worse until he lay helpless in bed, and he knew that his time was short. He did not worry about himself. He worried about his sons. When he was gone, would the brothers hold on to one another, or would they scatter in every direction, broken apart like a flock of birds caught in a storm?

The father thought about it for a long time. Then he called all his sons to his bedside. The room went quiet. The sons looked at their father lying there, thinner and older than before, though his eyes were still bright. He spoke softly, but every word was clear. "I want to try something, my sons. Bring me a bundle of chopsticks."

They brought a bundle tied tight. The father looked at it for a while, then handed it to his eldest son. "Here. Try to break it."

The eldest took the bundle in both hands. His face turned red and the veins stood out on his wrists. He tried once. He tried again. It would not break. The bundle stayed stiff and still. He shook his head and handed it back.

The father passed the bundle to his second son, then to the third, and so on down the line. Each one used all his strength. Each one failed. The bundle lay whole, tied tight and silent.

The sons looked at one another. They did not understand what their father meant.

Slowly the father raised himself up. With trembling hands he untied the string. He took the chopsticks out one by one and gave each son a single chopstick. "Now," he said, "break it."

One small twist of the hand, and the chopstick snapped in two, as easily as if it weighed nothing.

The room fell completely silent. No one said a word. The sound of the snapping chopsticks still rang in every ear.

The father looked at his sons, one after another. He spoke slowly and clearly. "Brothers must stand together. Divided, brothers are weak, like a single chopstick alone. United, they are strong, like the whole bundle tied tight that no one can break." His voice dropped at the end, as if he were speaking straight from the heart. "All I want is for my sons to hold on to one another."

He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and looked at his sons once more. His eyes were calm and warm, and the worry that had been in them was gone.

The sons stood around the bed, all of them close to tears. They looked at the broken pieces in their hands, then at one another, then back at their father. The eldest bowed his head and was silent for a while. Then he laid his hand on his father's hand, gently, as if afraid that a firmer touch would hurt him. His voice was so soft that he seemed to be speaking to himself. "We understand, Father. We promise to love one another, and we will never let our brotherhood be torn apart again."

One by one the others nodded, their voices thick. The room grew warm, though the wind still blew outside the door.

The father smiled. Peacefully he closed his eyes and slipped away on a light breath, like a man who has finally set down the last of his burdens. His lesson had needed few words. Only a bundle of chopsticks. Only a string tied tight.

From then on, the story passed from one generation to the next, told by parents to their children and by teachers in the classroom. The saying "united like a bundle of chopsticks" became a familiar phrase in Vietnamese, one that everyone understands without explanation.

When a family gathers close around a meal and picks up chopsticks to eat together, that bundle is still there, binding everyone to one another, stronger than any cord.