The Magic Pot

In a tiny, quiet village lived an old woman named Goma and her little granddaughter, Suki. They were very poor. Sometimes, they didn’t even have a handful of rice to eat. One gloomy morning, Goma looked into their empty cupboards. “We have no food left,” she sighed. “Suki, go into the forest and see if you can find some wild berries.” Little Suki nodded. She took her small basket and went into the woods. She searched everywhere—under bushes, behind rocks—but she couldn’t find a single berry. Tired and hungry, she sat on a mossy log and began to cry. Sob, sob.

Suddenly, an old woman walked out from behind a tree. She looked kind and wore a cloak made of leaves. “Why are you crying, little one?” she asked gently. “I am hungry,” sniffled Suki. “And my grandmother has no food.” The old woman smiled. She reached into her bag and pulled out a small, black iron pot. “Take this,” she said. “This is a Magic Pot. It is very special. Whenever you are hungry, just say, ‘Cook, Little Pot, Cook!’ and it will fill with delicious, sweet porridge. When you have had enough, say, ‘Stop, Little Pot, Stop!’”

Suki was amazed. She thanked the kind woman and ran all the way home. “Grandmother! Look!” she shouted. She placed the pot on the table. “What is an empty pot going to do?” asked Goma. Suki shouted, “Cook, Little Pot, Cook!” Bubbles appeared. Bloop, bloop! Instantly, the pot filled with steaming, sweet, creamy porridge. It smelled like honey and warm milk. Goma and Suki ate until their tummies were full. Then Suki said, “Stop, Little Pot, Stop!” and the pot stopped cooking. For days, they were happy. They never went hungry again.

One day, Suki went to visit a friend in the next village. While she was away, Goma felt hungry. She looked at the pot and said, “Cook, Little Pot, Cook!” The pot bubbled and filled with porridge. Goma ate a big bowlful. “That was good,” she said, patting her stomach. She went to sit by the window for a nap. But she forgot to say the magic words to stop the pot!

The pot kept cooking. Bloop, bloop. The porridge rose to the top. It spilled over the edge. Splosh. It ran onto the table. It flowed onto the floor. It filled the kitchen. Goma woke up and saw the white river of porridge. “Oh no! Stop! Please stop!” she cried. But she didn’t use the magic words. The pot just kept cooking. The porridge flowed out of the door, into the street, and down the lane. It covered the village square! The villagers ran out with spoons and bowls, surprised by the river of breakfast.

Finally, Suki came walking back home. She saw the white flood. “Result!” she shouted. “Stop, Little Pot, Stop!” Immediately, the pot stopped bubbling. The whole village had a feast that day. They laughed as they cleaned up the sticky, sweet mess. Goma was embarrassed but happy that no one was hurt. “I think,” she said, licking a spoon, “I will let you handle the cooking from now on, Suki.”

Moral of the Story: It is important to pay attention and not be forgetful. Also, only take what you need.

Moral of the Story: Greed brings trouble; sharing brings joy.