Eli's heart pounded as he stepped into Learnville's bustling market square, the air thick with the clamor of traders and the clink of coins. His red box—etched with his Investment Policy Statement—was tucked beneath his arm, its rules now his only shield against the chaos.
For weeks, Benjamin had taught him the ways of the market: to balance greed and fear, to think clearly amidst noise. Now, it was time for his first real test—choosing a business to own.
At the square's edge, a silver-tongued trader named Vara leaned against her stall, her eyes sharp as foxglove.
"Eli, my boy!" she called, waving a parchment like a spell.
"Weaver's Wool Co. — big, steady, and cheap. A steal! Everyone's buying!"
Her words were honeyed, but Eli remembered Benjamin's voice:
"Beware the crowd's song."
He opened his red box, reviewing his rules:
Buy large, prominent businesses. Look for a long history of steady dividends.Purchase below the true value using a Margin of Safety.
Weaver's Wool matched the list. Its looms were legendary across Learnville. The ledgers showed profit, year after year. After a poor season, its price had dipped—perhaps too low. Eli did the math. The business was undervalued.
"I'll take it," he told Vara, handing over his coins with a steady hand.
Weeks passed.
The excitement faded. The price of Weaver's Wool fell further.
Rumors of a wool shortage spread like wildfire.
Traders panicked.
"Sell before it's worthless!" they shouted.
Vara? Already hawking Starlight Crystals to the next batch of dreamers.
Eli's stomach twisted.
Had he misjudged? Was he a fool in investor's robes?
He ran to the Great Library, bursting through the doors like a storm.
Benjamin sat calmly, polishing a small hourglass, its sand trickling in silence.
"Eli," he said without looking up, "your eyes betray you. You're afraid."
"I'm losing everything!" Eli cried.
"Weaver's Wool is collapsing! Shouldn't I sell before it hits bottom?"
Benjamin turned the hourglass over.
"Ah, but what's changed about the business, Eli?
Are the looms broken? Have the profits vanished?"
Eli hesitated.
"No… the looms still hum. The shortage is short-term. Dividends still arrive."
"Then why sell?" Benjamin asked gently.
"You bought with a Margin of Safety, did you not?
Then trust your choice. Panic is for speculators.
You are an investor."
He gestured to the hourglass.
"Let time do what it does best.
Check your business only four times a year, like the seasons.
That's enough."
Eli opened his red box and reread the rule:
Hold through storms. Focus on value.
His panic receded. In its place, a flicker of resolve.
"What if I was wrong?" he asked.
Benjamin smiled, rising from his chair. He pointed to a weathered parchment on his "mistake wall".
"I bought Weaver's Wool long ago," he said.
"Held through worse. Learned from it. Grew stronger.
And so will you—if you keep walking forward."
As Eli stepped back into the market, the noise still echoed—but it no longer commanded him.
Vara's taunts drifted through the square, but Eli didn't look back.
His hand rested on the red box at his side.
His first business.
His first real lesson.
And his fortress still stood.