The Old Beggar-Woman

In a prosperous village nestled in a valley between green hills and flowing streams, there appeared one gray autumn morning a figure that would test the hearts of all who encountered her. She was an old beggar-woman, bent with age and dressed in tattered clothes that had seen better days. Her hair was white as snow, her face was deeply lined with wrinkles, and she walked slowly with the aid of a gnarled wooden staff.

The old woman made her way through the village streets, stopping at houses and shops to ask for small acts of kindness - a crust of bread, a cup of water, or perhaps a warm place to rest her weary bones. But there was something unusual about this beggar-woman, something in her eyes that seemed to hold depths of wisdom far beyond what one might expect from a simple wanderer.

The first house she approached belonged to Frau Richter, the wealthiest woman in the village. Frau Richter lived in a grand house with many rooms, fine furniture, and servants to attend to her every need. When the old beggar-woman knocked on her door, Frau Richter answered with obvious irritation.

“What do you want?” Frau Richter demanded, looking disdainfully at the old woman’s ragged appearance.

“Kind lady,” the beggar-woman said in a voice as soft as autumn wind, “I have been walking for many miles and am very weary. Might I trouble you for a small piece of bread and perhaps a cup of water?”

Frau Richter’s face twisted with disgust. “How dare you come to my door looking like that! I don’t give handouts to lazy beggars. Get away from my house before I call for the constable!”

With these harsh words, Frau Richter slammed the door, leaving the old woman standing alone on the doorstep.

The beggar-woman sighed sadly and made her way to the next house, which belonged to Herr Mueller, a prosperous merchant who owned several shops in the village. When he answered his door and saw the old woman, his expression was one of annoyance mixed with calculation.

“I suppose you want money,” Herr Mueller said curtly. “Well, I didn’t become successful by giving away my hard-earned wealth to every person who claims to be in need. There are plenty of places where people like you can find work if you really want to help yourselves.”

“I ask only for a small kindness, good sir,” the old woman replied gently. “Perhaps a bit of bread or a warm place to sit for a moment?”

“Absolutely not,” Herr Mueller replied firmly. “If I start helping every beggar who comes to my door, word will spread and I’ll have dozens of them bothering me every day. The answer is no, and don’t come back.”

And with that, he too closed his door, leaving the old woman to continue on her way.

House after house, the pattern repeated itself. The wealthy and comfortable villagers turned the old woman away with harsh words and cold hearts. Some simply ignored her knocking, pretending not to be home. Others told her bluntly that they had no time or inclination to help wandering beggars.

Finally, as the day was growing late and the old woman was clearly exhausted from her long journey and many rejections, she came to a tiny cottage at the edge of the village. This humble dwelling belonged to Greta, a poor widow who worked as a washerwoman to support herself and her young daughter, Marie.

When Greta opened her door and saw the old beggar-woman, her face immediately filled with compassion and concern.

“Oh, you poor dear!” Greta exclaimed. “You look so tired and cold. Please, come inside and warm yourself by my fire.”

“I don’t wish to be a burden,” the old woman said gratefully. “I have been walking all day, and I was hoping for just a small piece of bread and perhaps some water.”

“Nonsense!” Greta replied, gently taking the old woman’s arm and helping her into the cottage. “You’re not a burden at all. Anyone can see that you’re weary and in need of rest.”

Greta’s cottage was small and simply furnished, but it was clean and warm. The widow settled the old woman in the most comfortable chair near the fireplace and brought her a bowl of soup that had been simmering over the fire.

“This is all I have to offer,” Greta said apologetically, “but it’s hot and nourishing. And Marie, come meet our guest.”

Little Marie, a girl of about eight years with kind eyes like her mother’s, curtsied politely to the old woman and offered her a cup of fresh water from their well.

“Thank you both,” the old woman said, accepting the simple meal with evident gratitude. “You have shown me more kindness in these few minutes than I have received in all my travels today.”

As the old woman ate her soup and warmed herself by the fire, she told Greta and Marie stories of her travels and the many places she had seen. In return, Greta shared what little news she had of the village and asked the old woman about her family and her journey.

“I have no family left in this world,” the old woman said sadly. “I travel from place to place, depending on the kindness of strangers. Today, until I reached your door, I had begun to wonder if kindness still existed in the world.”

“Oh, it does exist,” Greta assured her. “Sometimes it’s just hidden beneath worry and fear. People often turn away those in need because they’re afraid of not having enough for themselves.”

When it came time for the old woman to continue on her way, Greta packed a small bundle of food for her journey and insisted that she take an old but warm cloak that had belonged to Greta’s late husband.

“I cannot accept such valuable gifts,” the old woman protested. “You have already been far too generous.”

“Please,” Greta insisted. “The nights are growing cold, and this cloak is doing no good hanging in my cupboard. It would make me happy to know it’s keeping someone warm.”

As the old woman prepared to leave, she turned to Greta and Marie with tears in her eyes.

“You have shown me true Christian charity,” she said. “In a day filled with rejection and harsh words, you opened your door and your hearts to a stranger. Such kindness will not be forgotten.”

“We only did what anyone should do,” Greta replied modestly. “I hope that if my Marie or I were ever in need, someone would show us the same consideration.”

The old woman smiled mysteriously and said, “Perhaps your kindness will be repaid sooner than you think.”

That night, as Greta and Marie settled down to sleep, they felt good about having helped someone in need, even though their own circumstances were difficult.

But during the night, something extraordinary occurred. The humble cottage was filled with a soft, golden light, and when Greta awakened, she found that their simple home had been transformed into something magnificent.

The rough wooden walls had become smooth and polished, painted in beautiful colors. The simple furniture had been replaced with comfortable chairs and tables made of fine wood. The fireplace was now surrounded by beautiful tiles, and warm rugs covered the floors.

Most remarkably, their cupboards and pantry were filled with abundance - fine foods, warm clothing, and everything they needed for comfortable living. On the table was a small bag of gold coins and a note written in elegant script:

“For Greta and Marie, whose kindness to a stranger revealed the beauty of their hearts. May you never want for anything, and may you always remember that true wealth lies in the compassion we show to others.”

As Greta read these words with wonder, she began to understand that the old beggar-woman had been far more than she had appeared to be.

Meanwhile, throughout the village, the people who had turned away the old woman with harsh words began to experience the consequences of their lack of charity.

Frau Richter awakened to find that her fine house had become shabby and worn. Her expensive clothes had turned to rags, and her servants had disappeared in the night. Worse still, she found herself consumed with an insatiable hunger that no amount of food could satisfy.

Herr Mueller discovered that his shops had become run-down and empty, his wealth had vanished, and he was overcome with an unquenchable thirst that no amount of water could relieve.

All the other villagers who had refused to help the old woman found themselves afflicted with various troubles - their crops failed, their businesses suffered, or they experienced the very hardships they had refused to alleviate in others.

But those few villagers who had shown even small kindnesses to the old woman - a farmer who had given her directions with a smile, a child who had offered her a wild flower, an elderly man who had simply spoken to her with respect - found their lives blessed with unexpected good fortune.

As news of these miraculous events spread throughout the region, people began to understand that the old beggar-woman had been a divine messenger, sent to test the charity and compassion of human hearts.

Greta and Marie continued to live in their transformed cottage, but they never forgot the lesson they had learned. They used their unexpected wealth to help others in need, always remembering that true riches come from the kindness we show to those who have less than ourselves.

Years later, whenever strangers came to the village seeking help, the people remembered the story of the old beggar-woman and tried to respond with generosity and compassion, knowing that every person in need might be carrying a divine test.

The tale became a beloved story told throughout the land, reminding people that we are often judged not by our wealth or status, but by how we treat the poor, the lonely, and the helpless who come seeking our aid.

“Remember,” parents would tell their children, “when a stranger comes to your door in need, you may be entertaining an angel unaware. The kindness you show to the least fortunate reveals the true condition of your heart, and such kindness is always noted by heaven.”

And in the little cottage where Greta and Marie lived, visitors could still see hanging on the wall the old cloak that Greta had given to the mysterious beggar-woman, returned to them as a reminder that the greatest treasures in life are not gold or jewels, but the love and compassion we share with others.

The old beggar-woman was never seen again in that village, but her lesson lived on: that true nobility is found not in fine clothes or grand houses, but in hearts that are open to helping those in need, and that heaven itself takes notice when we show mercy to the least among us.

Moral: True character is revealed in how we treat those who seem to have nothing to offer us in return, and kindness to strangers may be kindness to divine messengers in disguise.