The balls of wishes
Once upon a time, in a quiet little village surrounded by green fields and tall trees, there lived a poor boy named Malang. He and his mother lived in a tiny hut near the village shops. Malang’s father had passed away when he was just a baby, so his mother worked hard to raise him alone.
Every day,
Malang’s mother sent him to the shop to bring home some food. But because they
were so poor, he often had to beg for food instead of buying it. One day, the
shopkeeper grew angry and shouted at him. He grabbed Malang by the arm and
threw him out of the shop.
Heartbroken,
Malang ran away and sat by the river, tears falling onto the water’s surface.
As he sat there crying, something glittered beneath the rippling waves.
Curiously, Malang reached into the water and pulled out three golden balls,
each one glowing softly in his hands.
Malang’s
stomach growled loudly as he stared at the golden balls in his hands. His lips
trembled, and tears welled in his eyes.
“If only… if
only we could eat something warm and tasty,” he whispered softly, his voice
cracking. “Just one meal… enough to fill our empty stomachs.”
As soon as the
words left his mouth, the golden balls glowed brightly, and the air around him
shimmered with magic.
Suddenly, a
bright light flashed, and a magnificent dragon appeared, its scales shimmering
like gold. “Your wish is granted,” the dragon rumbled kindly. “Go home, young
one.”
Malang raced
back to his hut. To his amazement, the table was covered with steaming bowls of
rice, fragrant bread, sweet fruits, and roasted meat. He and his mother ate
happily for the first time in a long while.
The next day,
Malang and his mother made another wish. “We wish to be rich,” they said. At
once, a heavy bag filled with gold coins appeared before them. They were no
longer poor and soon filled their home with beautiful things.
But as their wealth grew, so did
their pride. Their simple little hut was soon filled with shiny treasures, soft
rugs, and fine clothes. Malang and his mother began to forget the days when
they had gone hungry. Neighbors who once shared their bread were now turned
away from their grand home. The golden balls, once a symbol of hope and
kindness, became nothing more than ornaments they hardly noticed.
One day,
thinking they had no need for the ball because they are rich now, they carelessly tossed the last
golden ball back into the river. The moment it touched the water, a chilling
wind swept through their home. In the blink of an eye, their riches vanished,
the grand furniture crumbled into dust, and their hut stood bare once again.
Malang and his
mother sat in silence, tears rolling down their cheeks. For the first time,
they realized the true gift had never been gold or food—it was the lesson of
gratitude. From that day on, they worked hard, shared what little they had, and
found happiness not in riches, but in kindness and love. And though they never
saw the golden balls again, the village remembered them not as the poor family
who lost their wealth, but as the kind hearts who had learned the value of
every blessing.
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