A neighboring farmer had gifted Grandfather a beautiful, large piece of fresh honeycomb.
It sat on a wooden plate, glistening like gold and dripping with sweet honey.
Steve and Kynthos were overjoyed. Such a treat was rare.
They took big, joyful bites, getting the sticky honey all over their hands, cheeks, and chins.
Grandfather warned them to save the rest for tomorrow.
But when Grandfather walked away, Kynthos couldn't resist. He greedily reached for another large piece, and then another.
Later that evening, Kynthos sat on a stone bench in the courtyard.
He was clutching his stomach and groaning. He looked very pale, and very sick.
Grandfather brought him a clay cup of warm, bitter herbal tea.
"Even the sweetest things in life turn sour if we take too much of them," Grandfather said gently.
The next day, Steve and Kynthos ate just a simple piece of flatbread with a tiny drizzle of honey.
They ate slowly, smiled, and felt perfectly satisfied, having finally learned the true value of moderation.
