Credit for the prompt goes to 
It wasn't often in this village that a new thing was made. These were a people who defined contentedness. While other villages grew into towns and cities in faraway lands, with wheels, wagons, and steel to show for their efforts, the Ikon had settled for what they started with.
When the plain-clothed folk of Ikon had come to their gathering grove to pluck the lowest hanging fruit, the eldest were shocked to see one of their own holding a long branch that had fallen from a tree that lay barren, using it to knock higher, fresher fruits off the branches.
"Child, what are you doing?" An elder woman shouted. "Do we not get enough from what our arms can reach?"
"And now we can get even more." The child said, knocking down another ripe fruit.
"So said those in other lands, and they have traded their trees for stones."
