Hans in Luck

Hans in Luck

For seven years, Hans worked for a master far from home. He was diligent, never late, and did every task honestly.

When it was time to return to his mother, the master said:

“You worked well, Hans. Here is your pay.”

He gave him a heavy lump of silver.

Hans wrapped it in a cloth, put it over his shoulder, and set off.

At first he walked cheerfully. After several hours, however, his shoulder began to ache.

“Wealth is pleasant,” Hans said, shifting the bundle, “but why must it be so heavy?”

A rider came toward him on a fine horse.

Hans stared admiringly.

“What a lucky man! He sits comfortably while the road runs beneath him.”

The rider laughed.

“Would you like to trade? Your silver for my horse.”

Hans’s eyes widened.

“Really? Then I won’t have to carry this heavy thing anymore!”

They traded.

Hans climbed into the saddle and was delighted at first. But he had never ridden before. The horse went too slowly, then suddenly too fast. At one turn Hans nearly landed in a bush.

Soon he met a man calmly leading a cow.

“What an obedient animal,” sighed Hans. “And she never rushes.”

“She gives milk too,” said the man.

Hans brightened.

“Milk! You can make butter and cheese from it. My horse cannot do that.”

The man offered to exchange the cow for the horse.

“I must be fortune’s favorite today!” thought Hans.

He led the cow onward.

The day grew hot, and Hans became thirsty.

“Now I’ll enjoy my excellent purchase.”

But the cow was old and gave no milk.

Hans did not stay disappointed for long.

“Then dairy farming is not my calling.”

Just then, a man came along with a pig.

“The pig is smaller,” said the stranger, “and easy to lead.”

Hans looked at the cow, then the pig.

“Easy to lead sounds wonderful.”

Soon they had traded.

Hans continued with the pig, quite satisfied.

Later he met a farmer carrying a large white goose.

“What a beautiful bird!” said Hans.

“And calm,” replied the farmer. “She doesn’t pull at the rope or refuse to move.”

Hans glanced at the pig, which had just decided to investigate a ditch and was dragging him toward it.

“Calm, you say?”

A few minutes later, Hans was carrying the goose.

“Every trade I make today makes the road easier,” he rejoiced.

In the next village, Hans met a knife grinder. The man turned his wheel, sang, and looked very cheerful.

“You have a good trade,” said Hans.

“And a useful one. People always need scissors and tools sharpened.”

“So you can always earn money?”

“With a grinding stone and two hands, I am rarely without work.”

Hans thought.

“I have a goose. She is lovely, but she won’t give me a profession.”

The grinder gladly gave Hans an old stone in exchange for the goose.

Hans lifted the stone.

It was heavy.

Very heavy.

Almost as heavy as the silver with which the journey had begun.

Still, Hans kept his good spirits.

“Never mind. Now I have a trade.”

He walked on. The sun sank lower, and his arms grew more tired.

Beside a river, Hans stopped for a drink. He placed the stone nearby, bent toward the water, and accidentally knocked it with his elbow.

Splash!

The stone fell into the river and disappeared.

Hans froze.

Seven years of work had become silver.

Silver had become a horse.

The horse became a cow.

The cow became a pig.

The pig became a goose.

The goose became a stone.

And now nothing remained.

It seemed the perfect moment to be miserable.

Instead, Hans straightened his shoulders.

“How light I am!”

He lifted his empty hands as though noticing their freedom for the first time.

No silver to carry.

No horse to control.

No cow to lead.

No pig to chase.

No goose to hold.

Not even a grinding stone pulling him down.

Hans laughed and walked faster.

By evening, he reached his old home.

His mother ran to meet him.

“Hans! At last! How was your journey?”

“Wonderful!”

“And what did you bring home after seven years of work?”

Hans thought.

“A story.”

They sat at the table, and he told her about every trade.

His mother sometimes held her head in disbelief and sometimes laughed.

“Son, you understand that you began with silver and arrived with nothing?”

“Not exactly nothing,” said Hans. “I learned something. Every time, I thought the next possession would make me happier. But I felt happiest when I stopped carrying anything at all.”

His mother smiled.

“If you truly learned that, the seven years were not wasted.”

The next day, Hans found work near home. This time he did not trade his pay for the first horse he saw on the road.

But neither did he collect things simply to have more.

Whenever someone asked:

“Hans, do you still think you are lucky?”

he answered:

“Of course. Happiness does not have to be carried on your shoulders.”

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨