Top of favorite parables

Love this parable. By Valentina Oseeva. Three sons. (a soviet writer, my translation)
Two women were taking water from the well. Came up to them the third. And the little old man on a pebble to rest sat down. One woman says to the other:
- My son is strong and agile, no one can handle him.
- But mine sings like a nightingale. No one has such a voice, - says another woman. But the third woman is silent.
- Why don't you say anything about your son? - asked her neighbors.
- What should I say? - says the woman. - There's nothing special about him.
So the women took a bucket full of water and went out. And the old man followed them. The women are walking, they stop. Their hands hurt, the water splashes, their backs ache.
Suddenly three boys run out.
One is tumbling over his head, doing cartwheels - the women admire him.
Another one sings a song and sings like a nightingale - the women listen to him.
And the third ran to his mother, took heavy buckets from her and dragged them.
The women asked the old man:
- So, what are our sons like?
- Where are they? - asked the old man. - I see only one son.