The lake is generous, but generosity is never license. The people of Glimmerglass have long understood that what is taken from living waters must be received with thanks and used without waste. To take without reverence is not merely rude; it is a form of forgetting.
The old songs teach that provision is safest in the hands of the grateful. Fish may be gathered, and the gifts of the water prepared with joy, but never with contempt. Meals are not seized as entitlement. They are honored as mercy. This is why the table songs are not ornament—they are memory made audible.
The lake also teaches restraint. Not every abundance is an invitation to excess. In seasons of plenty, wise people practice the habits they will need in leaner days. Gratitude steadies appetite. Reverence teaches measure. Joy becomes more durable when it is not swollen by waste.
The gifts of the lake are honored—taken with song, prepared with joy, and never wasted.
Those who learn this lesson early become trustworthy with larger gifts later. For the realm has always known: a person who cannot honor a simple meal will one day misuse a richer inheritance.