Hans in Luck

After seven long years of faithful service to his master, a young man named Hans was finally ready to return to his home village and his dear mother. He had worked diligently as an apprentice, learning his trade and saving every penny he could.

On his last day of service, his master called him into the workshop. “Hans,” he said with a warm smile, “you have been the most reliable and hardworking apprentice I have ever had. As payment for your seven years of service, I want to give you something special.”

The master handed Hans a lump of gold as large as his head. Hans’s eyes widened in amazement—he had never seen so much wealth in one place.

“This gold is worth more than most men earn in a lifetime,” explained the master. “Take it home to your mother and live comfortably for the rest of your days.”

Hans wrapped the heavy gold carefully in a cloth and slung it over his shoulder. “Thank you, master! I am the luckiest man in the world!” he exclaimed, practically dancing with joy.

And so Hans set off on the road home, whistling cheerfully and thinking about how surprised and delighted his mother would be to see his fortune. But after walking only a few miles under the hot summer sun, the weight of the gold began to make his shoulders ache terribly.

“My goodness,” Hans puffed, wiping sweat from his brow, “this gold is certainly heavy. My shoulders feel like they’re on fire, and I still have many miles to go.”

Just then, a man came riding toward him on a fine horse, looking cool and comfortable in his saddle.

“Good day, young fellow,” called the horseman. “You look like you’re struggling with that heavy burden.”

“Indeed I am,” replied Hans, setting down his load with relief. “This gold is worth a fortune, but it’s so heavy I can barely carry it.”

The horseman looked thoughtful. “You know, I’ve been riding this horse for so long that I’m getting quite tired of it. It requires constant care—feeding, grooming, shoeing. Sometimes I think it would be nice to walk for a change and not have to worry about an animal. Would you be interested in trading your gold for my horse?”

Hans’s face lit up. “What a wonderful idea! With a horse, I could ride home in comfort instead of trudging along under this terrible weight. Yes, I would very much like to make that trade!”

The exchange was quickly made, and Hans climbed onto the horse with great satisfaction. “Now this is much better!” he said, settling into the saddle. “I am indeed the luckiest man alive!”

Hans urged the horse forward, but he had never actually ridden one before. Within minutes, the horse had bucked him off into a muddy ditch beside the road.

As Hans picked himself up, brushing mud from his clothes, a farmer walking by with a cow began to laugh.

“That’s quite a spirited horse you have there,” chuckled the farmer. “Not everyone can handle such a lively animal.”

“Yes, well,” said Hans ruefully, “I suppose I’m not much of a horseman. To tell the truth, I prefer walking anyway.”

The farmer nodded knowingly. “I understand completely. Horses can be very unpredictable. Now, my cow here is a different story entirely. She’s gentle, reliable, and provides fresh milk every day. You could drink milk whenever you wanted, make cheese and butter—she would take care of you for life.”

Hans looked at the placid cow with growing interest. “That does sound wonderful. I’ve always loved fresh milk. Would you consider trading your cow for my horse?”

“Well,” said the farmer, scratching his head, “your horse is certainly spirited, but I suppose I could use a good riding animal. Very well, let’s trade!”

And so Hans found himself the proud owner of a gentle brown cow. “Excellent!” he said, patting the cow’s flank. “Now I can have fresh milk whenever I please. I am surely the most fortunate man in the world!”

Hans continued his journey, leading the cow by a rope. But after walking for several more hours in the heat, he began to feel terribly thirsty.

“Perfect timing,” he said to himself. “I’ll milk my cow and have a refreshing drink.”

He led the cow to a shady spot and found an old bucket by the roadside. But when he tried to milk the cow, nothing came out except a few drops.

“Strange,” Hans muttered, trying again. But the cow was old and nearly dry, and no amount of effort would produce the milk he was craving.

Just then, a butcher came down the road, pushing a wheelbarrow with a pig in it.

“Having trouble with your cow?” asked the butcher.

“I’m afraid so,” Hans replied. “She doesn’t seem to want to give any milk.”

The butcher examined the cow expertly. “I hate to tell you this, friend, but this cow is past her prime. She’s probably not given good milk in years. You’d be lucky to get a glass of watery milk from her in a week.”

Hans’s face fell. “Oh dear. What am I to do with a cow that won’t give milk?”

“Well,” said the butcher thoughtfully, “I was just taking this pig to market. He’s young and fat, perfect for making sausages and ham. A pig like this could feed a family for months. Would you consider trading your cow for my pig?”

Hans brightened immediately. “What a splendid idea! I do love ham and sausages. Yes, let’s make that trade!”

Soon Hans was walking along with the pig on a leash, feeling quite pleased with himself. “How clever I am!” he said aloud. “This pig will provide me with delicious meat for a very long time. I am certainly blessed with good fortune!”

As he walked through the next village, a young boy came running up to him, carrying a large white goose under his arm.

“Excuse me, sir,” said the boy breathlessly, “but I couldn’t help noticing your pig. Where did you get him?”

“I traded my cow for him,” Hans replied proudly.

The boy looked worried. “Oh dear, I hope you won’t get into trouble. You see, the mayor’s pig was stolen from his pen this morning, and it looked exactly like that one. The constables are searching everywhere for it.”

Hans felt his stomach drop. “Stolen? But I got this pig in a fair trade!”

“I’m sure you did,” said the boy sympathetically, “but you know how these things go. If they find you with a pig that looks like the stolen one, they’ll arrest you first and ask questions later.”

Hans began to panic. “What should I do? I don’t want to be arrested!”

The boy looked thoughtful. “Well, I was just taking this goose to my grandmother, but I suppose I could trade it for your pig. A goose is much less likely to be mistaken for stolen property. Besides, goose feathers make the finest pillows and quilts, and a roasted goose is a feast fit for a king.”

“You would do that for me?” asked Hans gratefully. “Oh yes, let’s trade immediately!”

And so Hans continued his journey with the goose tucked under his arm. “How fortunate I am to have met such a helpful boy!” he said to himself. “This goose will provide me with a wonderful meal and useful feathers. My luck just keeps getting better!”

By now, Hans was getting quite close to his home village. As he walked through the familiar countryside, he met the village knife-grinder, who was pushing his grinding wheel along the road.

“Well, hello there, Hans!” called the knife-grinder. “I haven’t seen you in seven years! What brings you back to our village?”

“I’ve completed my apprenticeship,” Hans replied happily, “and I’m returning home with my fortune.” He held up the goose proudly.

The knife-grinder looked puzzled. “A goose is your fortune?”

“Oh yes,” said Hans, and he proceeded to tell the knife-grinder about all his trades, from the gold to the horse to the cow to the pig to the goose.

The knife-grinder listened with growing amazement. “My goodness, Hans, you’ve certainly had an eventful journey. But tell me, how do you plan to cook that goose when you get home? Do you have the proper equipment?”

Hans thought about this. “Well, no, I suppose I don’t.”

“And what about money for other necessities?” continued the knife-grinder. “A goose is fine for one meal, but what will you eat after that?”

Hans began to look worried. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

The knife-grinder picked up an old, dull grindstone that was lying by the roadside. “Now, this grindstone might not look like much, but with it, you could set up your own knife-sharpening business. People always need their tools sharpened, so you’d have a steady income for life. It’s not as immediately satisfying as a goose dinner, but it would provide for you indefinitely.”

Hans considered this carefully. “You know, that makes a lot of sense. A steady business would be much more practical than a single meal. Would you really trade that grindstone for my goose?”

“Certainly!” said the knife-grinder. “I was just going to throw this old stone away anyway.”

And so Hans made his final trade, taking possession of the heavy grindstone. “Perfect!” he declared. “Now I can start my own business and support myself forever. I am truly the most fortunate man alive!”

Hans continued toward his village, but the grindstone was extremely heavy and difficult to carry. His back began to ache, and he had to stop frequently to rest.

As he approached a well by the roadside, Hans decided to stop for a drink of water. He set the grindstone down carefully at the edge of the well and leaned over to cup some water in his hands.

But as he leaned forward, his elbow bumped against the grindstone, and it tumbled down into the deep well with a loud splash.

Hans stared into the well in shock for a moment, then suddenly began to laugh with pure joy.

“How wonderful!” he exclaimed, jumping up and dancing around the well. “I am the luckiest man in the entire world! That heavy stone has been weighing me down and hurting my back. Now I’m free of that burden, and I can walk home with light steps and a happy heart!”

And indeed, Hans practically skipped the rest of the way to his village, feeling lighter and happier than he had in years. When he arrived at his mother’s cottage, she rushed out to embrace him.

“Hans, my dear son! How was your apprenticeship? Did you learn your trade well? What have you brought home?”

Hans hugged his mother tightly. “Oh, mother, I have learned the most valuable lesson of all. I started with a lump of gold worth a fortune, and through a series of trades, I ended up with nothing but the clothes on my back.”

His mother looked concerned. “Nothing? Oh, Hans, what happened?”

“I discovered something wonderful,” Hans replied with a beaming smile. “True happiness doesn’t come from what you own, but from how you feel about what you have. Each trade I made seemed like the best possible deal at the time, and I was happy with every exchange. Even losing that grindstone made me happy, because it freed me from carrying a heavy burden.”

Hans’s mother looked at her son with new understanding. His face was glowing with contentment and joy, and she could see that he had indeed learned something valuable.

“You know, mother,” Hans continued, “I spent seven years working hard to earn that gold, but I’ve never been happier than I am right now, standing here with you, owning nothing but feeling grateful for everything.”

From that day forward, Hans lived simply with his mother, working as needed and always finding reasons to be cheerful and grateful. Neighbors would often comment on how he always seemed to be in good spirits, no matter what circumstances befell him.

“How does Hans stay so happy?” they would ask each other. “He has so little, yet he’s always smiling.”

And Hans, when asked about his secret, would always reply, “I learned that luck isn’t about what you have—it’s about appreciating whatever comes your way. I am lucky because I choose to see every situation as a blessing, and that makes me the richest man in the world.”

His contentment was so genuine and infectious that people began to seek out his company just to share in his positive outlook on life. And Hans was always happy to share his wisdom: that true wealth lies not in possessions, but in the ability to find joy in simplicity and gratitude in every circumstance.