The Legend of the Wishing Stone

High in the mist-shrouded mountains of northern Vietnam, where ancient pine trees whispered secrets to the wind and streams sang lullabies to the stones, lived a poor farmer named Duc. His small house clung to the mountainside like a bird’s nest, surrounded by terraced fields that he had carved from the rocky slopes with his own hands.

Duc lived alone with his elderly mother, Bà Năm, a woman whose wisdom was as deep as the mountain valleys and whose heart was as pure as the morning dew. Though they possessed little more than their modest home, a few chickens, and the vegetables from their garden, they were content with their simple life.

“My son,” Bà Năm would say each morning as she prepared their humble meal of rice and greens, “we may not have gold or silver, but we have something more precious—we have each other, and we have peace in our hearts.”

“Yes, Mother,” Duc would reply, kissing her weathered forehead. “A grateful heart is the greatest treasure of all.”

Every day, Duc worked his small fields, coaxing crops from the stubborn mountain soil. The work was backbreaking, and the yields were modest, but he never complained. In the evenings, he would sit with his mother, listening to her stories of the old days while they mended their simple clothes and shared whatever modest dinner they could prepare.

One foggy morning, as Duc was clearing rocks from a new plot of land, his hoe struck something hard beneath the soil. Curious, he dug carefully and uncovered a smooth, round stone unlike any he had ever seen. It was perfectly spherical, about the size of his palm, and its surface seemed to shimmer with an inner light that changed colors like the surface of a soap bubble.

“How strange,” Duc murmured, turning the stone over in his hands. It felt warm to the touch and seemed to pulse gently, as if it had a heartbeat of its own.

That evening, he showed the mysterious stone to his mother.

“This is no ordinary stone, my son,” Bà Năm said, examining it carefully. “Look how it glows in the lamplight, and feel how warm it is. This must be a magical object.”

As if responding to her words, the stone began to glow more brightly, filling their small room with soft, rainbow-colored light. Suddenly, a gentle voice seemed to emanate from the stone itself.

“You who have found me speak truly,” the voice said. “I am the Wishing Stone, created by the Mountain Spirit long ago to test the hearts of mortals. I can grant three wishes to the one who found me, but choose carefully, for once the three wishes are made, my magic will be spent forever.”

Duc and his mother looked at each other in amazement. Here was the answer to all their struggles—a chance to change their difficult life with just three wishes.

“We must think carefully about this,” Bà Năm said wisely. “Magical gifts often come with unexpected consequences. Let us sleep on this matter and speak of it again tomorrow.”

That night, Duc lay awake thinking about what he might wish for. They could ask for gold to make their lives easier, or for a larger farm with fertile soil, or for good health and long life. The possibilities seemed endless, and he felt both excited and overwhelmed by the responsibility.

The next morning, as Duc was working in his garden, he heard crying from the path below. Looking down, he saw a young woman sitting by the roadside, her clothes torn and muddy, tears streaming down her face.

“What troubles you, sister?” Duc called out, immediately abandoning his work to help.

The woman looked up with eyes red from crying. “My name is Linh,” she said. “I was traveling to the next village to marry a man I’ve never met—an arrangement made by my family to pay off debts. But bandits attacked our party, stole everything we had, and scattered us. Now I’m lost, penniless, and afraid to return home because my family will blame me for the lost dowry.”

Duc’s heart filled with compassion. Without hesitation, he invited Linh to his home, where his mother welcomed her warmly and prepared their best food for the distressed traveler.

“You may stay with us as long as you need,” Bà Năm said kindly. “We have little, but what we have, we share gladly.”

As the days passed, Linh proved to be a sweet and hardworking guest. She helped with the cooking and cleaning, tended the garden with skill, and her cheerful nature brought new life to the small household. Duc found himself looking forward to her smile each morning and enjoying their conversations as they worked side by side.

One evening, as they sat together watching the sunset paint the mountains gold and purple, Linh turned to Duc with tears in her eyes.

“You and your mother have been so kind to me,” she said. “I wish I could repay your generosity, but I have nothing to offer. Tomorrow, I must continue on my journey. I cannot hide here forever while my family suffers.”

That night, Duc made his decision. Taking the Wishing Stone from where he had carefully hidden it, he spoke his first wish.

“Wishing Stone,” he said solemnly, “I wish for a bag of gold sufficient to pay off Linh’s family debts, so she may return home free and no longer need to marry against her will.”

The stone glowed brilliantly, and when the light faded, a leather pouch filled with gold coins appeared beside it. Duc took the pouch to Linh, explaining that it was a gift from his family’s savings.

“I cannot accept this,” Linh protested. “This must be all you have!”

“Please,” Duc insisted. “Your happiness is worth more to us than gold.”

Linh wept with gratitude and joy. She stayed three more days, and during that time, she and Duc realized that their friendship had blossomed into something deeper. On the night before her departure, Linh took Duc’s hands in hers.

“I will return,” she promised. “When my family’s debts are settled and I am free to choose my own path, I will come back to you, if you will have me.”

“I will wait for you,” Duc replied, his heart both breaking and soaring at the same time.

After Linh left, the little house felt empty despite his mother’s comforting presence. Duc threw himself into his work, but his thoughts often wandered to the woman who had brought such light into his life.

A month later, word came that a terrible drought had struck the valleys below the mountain. Wells had run dry, crops were failing, and people were beginning to abandon their villages in search of water. Duc watched from his mountain home as streams of refugees passed by on the road, carrying what few possessions they could manage.

Among the travelers was an old man who collapsed from exhaustion just outside Duc’s gate. Duc immediately brought him water and food, and as the man recovered, he told a heartbreaking story.

“My grandchildren are among those fleeing the drought,” the old man said. “But I am too weak to keep up with them. They left me here to rest, promising to send help, but I fear I will die before they can return. My greatest sorrow is that I will never see them again.”

That night, Duc made his second wish.

“Wishing Stone,” he said, “I wish for rain to fall upon the drought-stricken valleys, enough to end the suffering and allow the people to return to their homes.”

Again the stone blazed with light, and by morning, dark clouds had gathered over the valleys. For three days and three nights, gentle rain fell steadily, refilling the wells and saving the crops. The refugees began returning to their villages, singing songs of gratitude and joy.

The old man was reunited with his grandchildren, and before departing, he blessed Duc and his mother. “You have the heart of a bodhisattva,” he said. “May the heavens smile upon you as you have smiled upon others.”

Now Duc had one wish remaining, and he found himself thinking more carefully than ever about how to use it. His mother, who had watched his generous use of the previous wishes with quiet pride, gave him her counsel.

“My son,” she said, “you have used this magical gift to help others without thought for yourself. This shows the purity of your heart. But remember that wisdom lies not only in generosity but also in understanding when to help and when to allow others to find their own strength.”

Several weeks later, Linh returned as she had promised. Her family’s debts were paid, and she was free to choose her own destiny. She had brought gifts—fine cloth, delicious food, and beautiful flowers—but most precious of all, she brought her love.

“I told my parents about you and your mother,” she said, “about your kindness and your pure heart. They have given their blessing for us to marry, if you will have me.”

Duc’s heart overflowed with joy, but as they planned their simple wedding, he realized that their life together would still be one of poverty and hardship. His mountain farm could barely support two people, let alone three. The temptation to use his final wish for wealth or an easier life was almost overwhelming.

The night before their wedding, as Duc held the Wishing Stone and contemplated his final wish, his mother came to sit beside him.

“Tell me, my son,” she said gently, “what have these past months taught you about happiness?”

Duc thought carefully before answering. “I have learned that helping others brings more joy than helping myself, that love shared is more precious than gold hoarded, and that contentment comes not from having much, but from appreciating what we have.”

His mother smiled. “And what do you have now?”

“I have you, Mother, the wisest and most loving parent a son could ask for. I have Linh, whose love fills my heart to overflowing. I have good health, honest work, and a roof over my head. I have the respect of my neighbors and the satisfaction of having helped others in their time of need.” He paused, a smile spreading across his face. “Mother, I believe I have everything I truly need.”

“Then what will you wish for?” she asked.

Duc held the stone up to catch the moonlight streaming through their window. “Wishing Stone,” he said clearly, “for my final wish, I wish for the wisdom to always appreciate what I have, the strength to help others when I can, and the contentment to be happy with a simple life filled with love.”

The stone glowed one last time, more brilliantly than ever before, and as the light faded, it crumbled to sparkling dust that scattered on the wind like stardust. But Duc felt a warm sensation in his heart, as if the stone’s final magic had settled there permanently.

The wedding of Duc and Linh was simple but joyful, attended by all their neighbors and blessed by the village elder. They set up their home in the same small mountain house, where three generations now lived in harmony.

As the years passed, their life was indeed simple, but it was rich in ways that gold could never buy. Duc’s crops grew better than ever before, not through magic, but because his contentment gave him patience and wisdom in his farming. Linh’s skills and gentle nature brought prosperity through careful management and community connections.

When children came, they grew up hearing the story of the Wishing Stone and learning its lesson: that the greatest magic is a grateful heart, and that true wealth lies not in what we accumulate, but in what we appreciate and share.

Duc never regretted his wishes. He had used them to help others and had discovered that in giving freely, he had received more than any selfish wish could have provided. His final wish had given him the most precious gift of all—the ability to see the magic in everyday life and to find joy in simple blessings.

The village children would often ask if he ever found another wishing stone, and Duc would smile and point to his heart.

“The real wishing stone is in here,” he would tell them. “When you learn to wish for others’ happiness as much as your own, and when you understand that contentment is the greatest treasure, then every day becomes magical, and every wish comes true in ways you never expected.”

And so the legend of the Wishing Stone reminds us that the most powerful magic is not the ability to change our circumstances, but the wisdom to appreciate what we have and the compassion to share our blessings with others. For in the end, the wishes that bring the greatest happiness are those that come from a grateful and generous heart.

The End