Story by Bill Conley
Moral:
Life will not always go according to our wants, and learning to accept that
truth is part of growing up. When we let go of demanding our way, we begin to
discover something deeper than happiness—contentment. The joy of giving,
helping, and making others smile often outweighs the fleeting satisfaction of
getting what we desire. Real treasure is found not in what we own, but in the
love and joy we offer to others.
Greta the Goat lived in the rocky
hills above Pineberry Village, where she spent her days hopping between
boulders and butting her horns into tree trunks just for fun. Greta had big
blue eyes, a curious spirit, and one stubborn streak that stretched farther
than the valley below.
She always knew what she
wanted, and when she wanted something, she expected it right away.
“I want that leaf pile to be mine,”
she once told the squirrels.
“I want that shiny bucket,” she announced at the market.
“I want to go first, always,” she said when lining up with her friends.
Sometimes Greta got what she wanted
because she whined or stomped her hooves. And sometimes, her friends gave in
just to avoid her tantrums. But more and more, Greta noticed her friends
pulling away—less eager to play or invite her to their games.
One chilly autumn morning, the
animals of Pineberry Village gathered for the annual Harvest Festival. There
would be dancing, singing, games, and a special giving table where every animal
brought one gift to share with someone else in the meadow.
Greta’s ears perked up. “A gift
table? How fun! I can’t wait to see what I get!”
Old Owl fluttered down and
explained, “Each animal will place a gift they made, found, or brought with
love. Then everyone will choose something from the table, not based on want—but
on kindness.”
Greta blinked. “So... I bring a gift
and I only get to choose one?”
Owl nodded. “That’s right. It’s
about giving, not grabbing.”
Greta didn’t like the sound of that.
She didn’t want to give anything away. She wanted the best gift for herself. As
the other animals hurried off to find or make something special, Greta sulked
beneath a birch tree.
“Why should I give anything at all?”
she grumbled. “No one ever gives me what I really want.”
Still, she didn’t want to be left
out. So at the last minute, she grabbed a lopsided pinecone she found in the
dirt and tossed it into the giving basket with a huff.
That afternoon, the gift table was filled
with lovely things: Clara the Cat’s hand-painted rock, Benny the Beaver’s
polished twig flute, Bella the Bunny’s homemade berry jam, and a dozen more
thoughtful gifts. Greta’s pinecone sat off to one side, dull and dusty.
When it came time to choose, Greta
pushed to the front. Her eyes locked on the most beautiful thing on the table—a
little glass heart that shimmered in the light. It had been brought by Lila the
Lamb, who had spent three days making it with her mother in the crafting barn.
Greta reached out.
Just as her hoof touched it, a
gentle voice spoke.
“Excuse me,” Lila said softly.
“Would you mind if I gave that to Fergus? He lost his grandmother this week.
That was her favorite color.”
Greta froze. Her heart tugged. She
looked across the meadow and saw Fergus the Fox sitting alone by the hay bales,
his tail curled tightly around him.
Greta hesitated. She wanted that
glass heart. She really wanted it.
But something inside her shifted. A
thought rose up, quiet but clear: Maybe someone else needs this more than
me.
Greta stepped back. “Yes,” she said,
her voice small but honest. “That’s okay.”
She watched as Lila gently placed
the glass heart into Fergus’s paws. His eyes filled with tears, but his smile
said more than any thank-you ever could.
Greta wandered over to the table
again, unsure what to take. Most of the best items were gone. The only thing
left was a small bundle of dried lavender tied with string.
She picked it up and held it to her
nose. It smelled soft and sweet, like a summer memory. And for the first time
that day, Greta felt something new—peace.
Later, while nibbling on an apple
near the fence, she saw Bella approach.
“That was kind of you,” Bella said.
“I saw what you did. That glass heart meant a lot to Fergus.”
Greta shrugged. “I didn’t want
to do it at first. But it felt right.”
Bella smiled and handed Greta a tiny
jar of her berry jam. “For you. Just because.”
Greta blinked. “But I didn’t ask for
this.”
“I know,” Bella said. “Sometimes the
best gifts are the ones you don’t ask for.”
That night, Greta curled up beneath
the stars, the lavender bundle tucked beside her. She hadn’t gotten what she
wanted. But somehow, she had received more than she expected.
And from that day on, Greta
discovered that wanting less often led to feeling more. Her horns didn’t
stop being stubborn, but her heart had learned how to soften.
Moral to the story Poem:
You won’t always get what you demand,
But giving opens heart and hand.
Joy runs deeper when it's shared—
A giving soul is one that’s cared.
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