The Good-for-Nothing Who Surprised Everyone

The Good-for-Nothing Who Surprised Everyone

Once, in a Georgian village, there lived a man whom the neighbors had somehow come to call Good-for-Nothing.

In truth, he was neither cruel nor foolish. He simply did not rush, did not boast, and often thought for a long time before beginning a task. To other people, that made him seem useless.

Even at home, his wife sometimes said, “Something has to change. We can barely make ends meet.”

One morning, the man packed a little bread in a bag and set out.

“I will go and see what the world can teach me,” he said.

He crossed one mountain, then a second, then a third. Beyond the ninth mountain he saw a great stone house. Inside, beside a fire, sat several devas, the giants of old stories who lived far from human villages.

The man greeted them politely.

“Good evening. Might I warm myself by your fire?”

The devas glanced at one another.

“If a guest comes with kind words, let him sit,” said the eldest.

So the man stayed with them for several days. Soon he noticed something strange. Whenever the devas were hungry, they placed a small smooth stone on the table and said, “Let supper appear.”

At once, bread, cheese, vegetables, fruit, and every dish they wished for appeared before them.

What a stone, thought the man. With that, my family would never know hunger again.

That night he tossed and turned on his bed.

If I ask for it, they will refuse. If I take it secretly, that would be wrong.

But temptation won. When the devas had fallen asleep, he quietly took the stone and crept toward the door.

“Open,” he whispered.

But the door gave a loud creak and announced, “A guest is carrying away another’s stone!”

The devas woke at once.

The man hurriedly put the stone back on the table and lay down, pretending to sleep.

The same thing happened the next night. And the night after that.

At last, the devas angrily lifted the creaking door from its hinges and carried it outside.

“At least there will be quiet now,” they grumbled.

When everyone was asleep again, the man truly did take the stone and slip away.

In the morning, the devas understood what had happened.

“What a stubborn guest!” said the eldest. “He even outwitted the door.”

But the man was not as cheerful on the road as he had expected to be. The stone was in his pocket, yet every step seemed to ask him, Did you take what was not yours?

Before long, he met a traveler carrying a thick walking stick.

“Friend,” said the traveler, “would you share some bread?”

The man took out the magic stone.

“Let there be lunch for two.”

At once, a cloth appeared on the ground, covered with food.

The traveler stared in amazement.

“Let us trade,” he said. “My stick for your stone.”

“And what can your stick do?” asked the man.

“If you say, ‘Stand, stick!’ it does not strike anyone. It simply bars the way of anyone trying to harm you.”

The man agreed. But after they had walked a few steps, he began to doubt himself.

“I gave up that stone too easily.”

He called, “Stand, stick!”

The stick sprang across the road in front of the traveler. He could not go on.

“All right, all right,” the traveler said with a laugh. “I see you have already learned the strength of your new possession.”

They gave one another back the stone and the stick honestly. Then they made a better bargain: the man supplied several magic meals for the traveler’s journey, and the traveler gave him the stick as a gift for his hospitality.

A little farther along, the man met another traveler. This one carried a sword in an old worn scabbard.

“It is not a fighting sword,” the traveler explained. “It cuts ropes, nets, thorny brambles, and anything else that holds someone unfairly captive.”

The man fed him with the help of the stone, and in thanks the traveler gave him the sword.

Later he met a third traveler carrying a scrap of enchanted felt.

“This felt mends what has been broken,” said the traveler. “Lay it over a cracked jug, a torn sack, or a broken wheel, and the thing will be whole again.”

For supper and a good conversation, the man received that gift as well.

At last he returned home.

“Look what I have brought,” he told his wife.

She saw an old stick, a sword in a battered scabbard, and a piece of felt.

“And that is all?” she asked, puzzled.

The man laughed.

“Almost all.”

He placed the stone on the table.

“Let there be supper for the family.”

The table filled at once with wonderful dishes.

The children clapped their hands. His wife sat down and was silent for a long moment.

“So I was wrong when I thought you were capable of nothing,” she said.

“And I was wrong when I thought being clever was enough,” the man answered. “I took this stone without permission, and because of that it weighs more heavily in my pocket than a mountain.”

The next day, he decided to return to the devas.

But just then, the local ruler heard of the magic stone. He arrived with his guards and said, “Such a thing belongs in the palace.”

“Why?” asked the man.

“Because I am the ruler.”

“That is not a very convincing reason.”

The ruler ordered the guards to take the stone.

The man raised the stick.

“Stand, stick!”

The stick fell across the gate, and the guards could not pass.

The ruler ordered them to tie up the man. But the enchanted sword leaped from its scabbard and neatly cut every rope that was brought near him.

In the confusion, a cart tipped over and one of its wheels broke. The man calmly covered the wheel with the felt, and it became whole again.

The guards stopped and stared.

“Do you see?” said the man. “These things can help people. Why should they be turned into weapons?”

The ruler reddened.

“Still, I need the stone,” he said.

“Then let us sit and talk.”

The man set the stone on the ground.

“Let there be a meal for everyone.”

A long table appeared. There was room for the guards, for the village children, and for the ruler himself.

As they ate, the man told them where the stone had come from.

“So it is not even yours?” the ruler asked in surprise.

“That is right. And I mean to return it.”

“Why not keep it? With it, you could become the richest man in the country.”

The man shook his head.

“If something makes you fear every day that another person will take it away, it has stopped making you rich.”

The ruler thought about that.

The next morning, the man set off once more beyond the nine mountains. He entered the great stone house and placed the stone on the devas’ table.

At first, they frowned.

“You have returned?”

“I have returned, and I have brought the stone. I took it without permission.”

The eldest deva looked at him for a long time.

“Why bring it back?”

“Because I have learned that cleverness may help you win one day. But trust helps you live the days after that.”

The devas looked at one another.

Then the eldest smiled.

“It has been a long time since we saw a person bring back what he could easily have kept.”

He pushed the stone toward the man.

“Take it now. This time, you have our permission.”

“Truly?”

“Truly. But use it in such a way that no one near you remains hungry.”

The man returned home no longer as Good-for-Nothing, but as someone people came to for advice.

When a cart broke, the felt helped mend it. When an animal became tangled in rope, the sword set it free. When someone tried to take another person’s belongings by force, the stick quietly barred the way. And whenever hungry travelers came to the village, the magic stone was placed upon the table.

The most curious thing was that, in time, people forgot the man’s old nickname.

For sometimes, being called good-for-nothing means only that you have not yet found what your strength is for.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨