Once upon a time, in a quiet village nestled between rolling hills, there lived a humble boy named Oliver. Unlike his two older brothers, who boasted about their strength and cleverness, Oliver was quiet and kind. He spent his days helping his parents tend their small farm, feeding chickens, and whistling tunes to the wildflowers. The villagers often called him “simple” for his gentle ways, but Oliver didn’t mind. He believed even the smallest acts of kindness mattered.

One chilly morning, Oliver’s father sent him into the forest to gather firewood. As he wandered deeper into the woods, he heard a faint whimpering. Following the sound, he discovered a wounded goose trapped in a thorny bush. Its feathers shimmered like sunlight, though one wing was tangled and bleeding. Without hesitation, Oliver carefully freed the bird, using his scarf to bandage its wing.

To his surprise, the goose spoke! “Thank you, kind soul,” it said in a melodic voice. “I am no ordinary goose. For your compassion, I grant you a gift.” With a flutter of its golden wings, a single feather fell into Oliver’s palm—and instantly turned to solid gold.

Oliver gasped. “But…why me?” he asked.

The goose tilted its head. “True kindness asks for nothing in return. Treasure this gift, but remember: Greed dims even the brightest gold.” With that, it vanished into the sky.

Oliver returned home and showed his family the golden feather. His brothers sneered. “You just got lucky!” scoffed the eldest. “We’ll find that goose and take all its feathers!” Before dawn, they charged into the forest, axes in hand. Oliver tried to warn them, but they wouldn’t listen.

Days passed, and the brothers didn’t return. Worried, Oliver ventured back into the woods. He found them stuck to the golden goose, which now sat calmly in a meadow! Every time they tried to pluck a feather, their hands glued to the goose—and to each other. They yelped and tugged, but couldn’t break free.

“Please, help us!” they begged.

Oliver sighed. “I will, but only if you promise to stop chasing riches.” Reluctantly, they agreed. He touched the goose, and the spell lifted. Humbled, the brothers trudged home, vowing to be better.

News of the magical goose spread, catching the ear of a lonely princess in a nearby kingdom. She hadn’t laughed in years, and her father, the king, had promised her hand to anyone who could make her smile. Many had tried—jesters, musicians, storytellers—but none succeeded.

Curious, Oliver tucked the golden feather into his pocket and journeyed to the castle. When he arrived, the princess sat slumped on her throne, her eyes dull. Oliver bowed and said, “Your Highness, I’ve brought you a story…and a friend.” He placed the feather in her palm.

As he spoke of the wounded goose and his brothers’ folly, the princess’s lips twitched. Then, when he imitated his brothers’ comical struggle to escape the goose, she burst into laughter—a sound like chiming bells. The king wept with joy, and the court cheered.

“You’ve healed my daughter’s heart,” the king said. “Ask for anything, and it shall be yours.”

Oliver thought carefully. “I don’t need gold or land. But if you could share your harvest with the hungry this winter, that would be gift enough.”

Touched by his selflessness, the king agreed. The princess, now beaming, asked Oliver to stay as her advisor. Together, they planted gardens for the poor and passed laws to protect the forests. As for the golden goose? It visited Oliver often, leaving a trail of laughter—and the occasional golden feather—wherever it flew.

And so, the boy who shared taught his kingdom a secret: True wealth isn’t measured in gold, but in the joy we create…and the hearts we gently mend.

The end. Sweet dreams, little ones.