Once upon a time, there lived a poor man who had so many children that he had already asked everyone he knew to be godfather to them. When yet another child was born, he was at a loss for whom to ask. One night, as he lay troubled in his bed, he dreamed that he should go outside the town gate and ask the first person he met to be the godfather.

When he awoke the next morning, he decided to follow the guidance of his dream. He put on his coat and walked beyond the town gate. The first person he encountered was a stranger with kind eyes but an unusual appearance. There was something both ordinary and extraordinary about him, as if he were both fully present yet somehow belonging to another world.

“Good sir,” said the poor man, bowing respectfully, “would you do me the honor of becoming godfather to my newborn child? I have so many children that I have exhausted all my acquaintances, and you are sent to me by a dream.”

The stranger regarded him with an unreadable expression before his lips curved into a smile. “That depends,” he replied, his voice deep and melodious. “What is your station in life?”

“I am but a poor man,” answered the child’s father honestly. “I struggle daily to put bread on the table for my many children.”

The stranger nodded thoughtfully. “Then I will be your child’s godfather. Come to my home this Sunday so that the baptism may take place. But remember this: afterward, I wish to take your child with me. I shall care for him, provide him with everything he needs, and ensure that he prospers in the world.”

Though hesitant to part with his child, the poor man knew he could not provide adequately for another mouth to feed. With a heavy heart, he agreed to the stranger’s terms.

On Sunday, the godfather appeared at the baptism as promised. After the ceremony, he took the child and carried him away to a distant land. There, he raised the boy with great care and affection, teaching him about herbs and healing arts until the boy grew into a fine young man with knowledge beyond his years.

When the godson reached his sixteenth year, the godfather took him into the forest. They walked for many hours until they came to a strange house set deep among ancient trees. It seemed to breathe with its own life, the windows like watchful eyes, the door like a mouth about to speak.

“My dear godson,” said the godfather, leading the young man inside, “this is my dwelling place. Within these walls are wonders and treasures, rooms filled with knowledge and mysteries of the world.”

The house inside was larger than it appeared from without, with corridors stretching in impossible directions and rooms that seemed to shift and change when viewed from different angles. The godfather showed his godson through many chambers, each more marvelous than the last. Some were filled with books whose pages turned by themselves, others with instruments that played ethereal music without musicians, and still others with windows that showed lands the young man had never seen or imagined.

Finally, they came to a corridor with twelve doors.

“I must leave you for a short while,” said the godfather. “You may explore eleven of these rooms freely. They contain all the knowledge of the world that you will need to become a great healer, richer and more renowned than any physician who has ever lived. But the twelfth door—” here he pointed to the last door, which seemed to shimmer slightly, as if not entirely solid, “—this door you must not open. I forbid it. If you disobey, great misfortune will befall you.”

With these words, the godfather departed, leaving the young man alone in the corridor of doors. For many days, the godson explored the eleven permitted rooms, discovering wonders beyond imagination. He learned the secret language of plants and how they could heal all manner of ailments. He studied the movements of stars and how they influenced the tides of human affairs. He mastered the subtle art of reading faces and bodies to diagnose illnesses before they fully manifested.

But all the while, the twelfth door called to him like a whisper just below hearing. Each time he passed it, he felt its pull growing stronger, its forbidden nature making it more tantalizing than all the permitted wonders combined.

“What could possibly lie behind it,” he wondered, “that is more extraordinary than what I have already seen? What knowledge could be so dangerous that I must be protected from it?”

On the tenth day, his curiosity overwhelmed his obedience. Standing before the forbidden door, his heart pounding like a drum, he placed his hand upon the strange handle that seemed both hot and cold to his touch. With a deep breath, he pushed the door open.

The room beyond was not what he had expected. It was small and sparsely furnished, with a single window that showed neither day nor night but a swirling mist of no color he could name. In the center of the room stood a crystal vessel upon a pedestal of black marble. As he approached, he saw that the vessel was filled with a clear liquid in which floated something that made his breath catch—a tiny human figure, perfectly formed as if sleeping in an eternal dream.

Drawn by a compulsion he could not resist, the godson reached into the vessel. The moment his finger touched the liquid, a burning pain shot through his entire body. He cried out and quickly withdrew his hand, but to his horror, he saw that his finger was now coated in gold—transformed completely from flesh to precious metal.

In a panic, he tore a strip from his shirt and wrapped it around his golden finger, hoping to hide the evidence of his disobedience. No sooner had he done this than he heard the godfather’s footsteps approaching.

“Have you opened the twelfth door?” asked the godfather, his eyes searching the young man’s face.

“No,” lied the godson, keeping his hands hidden in the folds of his garments.

The godfather looked at him for a long moment, his gaze seeming to pierce through flesh and bone to the truth beneath. “Show me your hands,” he commanded.

Trembling, the godson revealed his hands, hoping the wrapping would conceal his transgression. But the godfather gently unwound the cloth, exposing the golden finger beneath.

“You have disobeyed me and then compounded your error with a lie,” said the godfather, his voice heavy with disappointment. “The time has come for us to part ways.”

“Please, godfather,” begged the young man, “forgive me. I was overcome by curiosity, but I have learned my lesson. I shall never disobey you again.”

But the godfather shook his head. “Some lessons cannot be unlearned, and some boundaries, once crossed, forever change the crosser. You have gained much knowledge during your time with me, enough to make your way in the world as a healer. But the highest mysteries, the deepest secrets I might have shared with you, these must now remain beyond your reach.”

“What was in that room?” asked the godson. “What does it mean that my finger has turned to gold?”

“That room contains the essence of mortality,” replied the godfather. “The figure you saw represents all human life—its fragility and its preciousness. Your golden finger is both blessing and curse. It will remind you always of your disobedience, but it will also give you power to heal. When you touch a wound or sickness with that finger, the patient will be cured—but only if your intentions are pure and if you use this gift with wisdom and compassion.”

The godfather led the young man to the edge of the forest and gave him a small box filled with herbs and instruments for healing. “Go now,” he said. “Use what you have learned to do good in the world. Perhaps someday, when you have proven yourself worthy through years of humble service, our paths may cross again.”

With these words, the godfather vanished into the trees, leaving the young man alone with his golden finger and his newfound knowledge. True to the godfather’s words, the young man became a renowned physician, traveling from village to village, healing the sick with his golden touch. Yet always there remained within him a sense of loss for the greater mysteries he might have known had he mastered the virtue of obedience.

And sometimes, on quiet nights when the moon was full, he would look up at the stars and wonder about the true identity of his mysterious godfather, and whether their paths would indeed cross again in this life or perhaps in some other realm beyond mortal understanding.