Speaker 1: Hello, and welcome back to Sleepy Stories. I'm your host, Lucy,
Speaker 1: and my friends and I will be reading you a
Speaker 1: sleepy bedtime story every week to relax you and to
Speaker 1: help you to drift off into a RESTful sleep. From
Speaker 1: time to time, we will also read you a relaxing,
Speaker 1: peaceful meditation that will take you somewhere beautiful and calming.
Speaker 1: Once we have read the stories, we will then read
Speaker 1: them a second time, but this time they will be
Speaker 1: read read even slower. This will help you to relax
Speaker 1: even more. Before we begin, I would like you to
Speaker 1: close your eyes and breathe in and out nice and deeply.
Speaker 1: Take a few seconds to inhale, and then hold your
Speaker 1: breath for a few seconds more, and then release and
Speaker 1: breathe out. Do this a few times if you need to.
Speaker 1: While you listen to the music and you listen to
Speaker 1: my voice, give yourself time to let your body relax
Speaker 1: and your mind settle. It's important that we allow time
Speaker 1: for us to feel safe, cozy, and completely at ease.
Speaker 1: And now it's time for this week's story. On the
Speaker 1: edge of a small seaside village, in a crooked, little
Speaker 1: cottage with a blue door, there lived a poor man
Speaker 1: named Thomas. His roof leaked when it rained, his boots
Speaker 1: let in the wind, and his cupboard seemed always to
Speaker 1: be sighing with emptiness. Yet Thomas was known for his
Speaker 1: gentle smile and the way he always had time to
Speaker 1: help a neighbor carry a basket or fix a squeaky
Speaker 1: game eat. Most mornings, he would walk along the shore
Speaker 1: with a battered fishing net over his shoulder, hoping for
Speaker 1: enough fish to trade in the market. The sea was
Speaker 1: not especially kind to him, but Tomas had long ago
Speaker 1: decided that grumbling never made a fish jump into a net,
Speaker 1: so he whistled instead and watched the gulls circle overhead.
Speaker 1: One gray morning, when the.
Speaker 2: Mist was curled low over the water, Tomas saw something
Speaker 2: washed up on the sand. At first, he thought it
Speaker 2: was just another piece of broken wood, but as he
Speaker 2: came closer, he noticed it was a small wooden chest,
Speaker 2: no bigger than a loaf of bread. Seaweed clung to
Speaker 2: the hinges, and barnacles dotted the lid like pale buttons.
Speaker 2: Tomas glanced around. No one else was on the beach.
Speaker 2: The waves whispered and slid back, as if inviting him
Speaker 2: to look inside. He knelt beside the chest, hands trembling
Speaker 2: a little, and pried it open with the end of
Speaker 2: a driftwood stick. The lid creaked inside, wrapped in oil skin,
Speaker 2: was a rolled piece of parchment, tied with a red
Speaker 2: ribbon that had faded almost to pink. He untied the
Speaker 2: ribbon and unfurled the parchment. It crackled as it opened,
Speaker 2: and there, drawn in careful lines and faded ink, was
Speaker 2: a map, A treasure map. Thomas blinked once, as if
Speaker 2: his tired eyes might be playing tricks on him. But
Speaker 2: there it was, the jagged outline of the coastline, the
Speaker 2: twist of the forest behind the village, the distant hills.
Speaker 2: A dotted path led from the village, well through the woods,
Speaker 2: over the old stone bridge, and up to a small
Speaker 2: x marked beneath the sketch of a crooked pine tree.
Speaker 2: Along the edge of the parchment in neat writing, where
Speaker 2: the words riches lie, where courage, kindness and wisdom walk together.
Speaker 2: Thomas's heart thudded real treasure. He imagined heavy gold coins,
Speaker 2: bright jewels, enough riches to mend his roof, fill his cupboard,
Speaker 2: and still have plenty left over to help the neighbors
Speaker 2: whose cupboards also sighed. For a moment, he just stood
Speaker 2: there on the beach, with the mist curling around his ankles,
Speaker 2: the map fluttering in his hands. Then slowly a smile
Speaker 2: spread across his face. Well, he said to the empty shore,
Speaker 2: if the treasure belongs to those three, I'll have to
Speaker 2: invite them along. He chuckled at his own joke, rolled
Speaker 2: up the map and tucked it safely inside his coat.
Speaker 2: That very afternoon, Tomas packed a small bundle, a heel
Speaker 2: of bread, a wedge of hard cheese, a flask of water,
Speaker 2: and the tiny wooden carving of a bird his mother
Speaker 2: had given him when he was very young, for company,
Speaker 2: she had said, and to remind you that you can
Speaker 2: always find a way to fly in your heart. He
Speaker 2: locked the blue door of his cottage, patted it as
Speaker 2: if promising to come back, and walked into the village square.
Speaker 2: The first person he met was old Martyr, the baker,
Speaker 2: who stood outside her shop brushing flour from her apron.
Speaker 2: Her back was bent from years of lifting trays, but
Speaker 2: her eyes were sharp and kind. Tomas, she called, you're
Speaker 2: out later than usual. No fish today, not today, he replied,
Speaker 2: But I found something else. He lowered his voice and
Speaker 2: leaned closer. A map, A treasure map. I'm going on
Speaker 2: a quest, old Martyr's eyebrows rose. Treasure, you say, and
Speaker 2: what will you do with it if you find it?
Speaker 2: Fix my roof for a start, Thomas said, buy proper boots.
Speaker 2: And after that he looked around at the shabby houses
Speaker 2: and patched clothes. If there's enough, I'd like to help
Speaker 2: the village, maybe rebuild the old schoolhouse. Put more bread
Speaker 2: on your shelves. No one should go hungry. Martyr studied
Speaker 2: him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. Treasure tests
Speaker 2: the heart more than hunger does, she said. Remember that,
Speaker 2: if you want a bit of advice, take this. She
Speaker 2: went inside and returned with a small, still warm loaf
Speaker 2: of bread for the road. She said, I have food already,
Speaker 2: Thomas protested, And you also have neighbors who care, Marta replied, firmly,
Speaker 2: pressing the loaf into his hands. Kindness given freely has
Speaker 2: a way of finding its way back. Don't be too
Speaker 2: proud to accept it. Thomas's cheeks flushed. He bowed his
Speaker 2: head in thanks. I'll bring you back something good, he promised,
Speaker 2: bring back your good heart, Marta said, and that will
Speaker 2: be enough. With the bread added to his bundle, Thomas
Speaker 2: followed the first mark on the map. The village well.
Speaker 2: Children were playing nearby, tossing pebbles and listening for the
Speaker 2: plunk as they vanished into the water. As Thomas passed,
Speaker 2: one little boy's ball rolled toward a steep slope. The
Speaker 2: boy chased after it, his feet slipping in the gravel.
Speaker 2: Without thinking, Thomas dropped his bundle and lunged forward, catching
Speaker 2: the boy's arm before he tumbled down the slope. Got you,
Speaker 2: Thomas said, steadying him easy now. The boys stared up
Speaker 2: at him, wide eyed. Thank you, he whispered, clutching his ball.
Speaker 2: Take care, Thomas replied, ruffling his hair. The world is
Speaker 2: full of treasure, but you, little one, are worth more
Speaker 2: than all of it. As he turned back to the path,
Speaker 2: he noticed something tied to the handle of the well,
Speaker 2: a small tin charm shaped like a heart. It must
Speaker 2: have been lost or forgotten. He picked it up. On
Speaker 2: one side was engraved a single word, courage. He smiled. Well,
Speaker 2: then he murmured, looping the charm onto the string around
Speaker 2: his neck. Perhaps courage heard it was invited. He set
Speaker 2: off toward the forest. The trees at the edge of
Speaker 2: the woods stood tall and serious, like sentries. Light filtered
Speaker 2: through the leaves in dappled patches. Birds chattered in the branches,
Speaker 2: and the air smelled of earth and moss. The dotted
Speaker 2: line on the map led to a narrow path winding
Speaker 2: between the trunks. Soon the village was far behind. The
Speaker 2: forest deepened, The sounds of people and carts faded, replaced
Speaker 2: by the rustle of leaves and the occasional snap of
Speaker 2: a twig. After an hour of walking, Thomas came to
Speaker 2: a fallen tree blocking the path. As he considered climbing
Speaker 2: over it, he heard a soft whimpering sound nearby. He
Speaker 2: followed the sound and found a fox, its leg caught
Speaker 2: in a hunter's snare. The poor animal trembled, eyes wide
Speaker 2: with fear and pain. When Thomas approached, the fox bared
Speaker 2: its teeth, but its body shook too much to run easy. Friend,
Speaker 2: Tomas said gently, I won't hurt you. He slowly set
Speaker 2: down his bundle and took out the small knife he
Speaker 2: used for cutting bread and rope, Speaking softly all the while,
Speaker 2: he knelt beside the fox and worked at the snare.
Speaker 2: The wire had dug deep into the fur, and it
Speaker 2: took time and care to free it. Twice, the fox
Speaker 2: snapped teeth grazing his hand, but Tomas didn't pull away.
Speaker 2: You are afraid, he said, calmly, I understand. At last,
Speaker 2: the wire came loose. The fox limped back, testing its leg,
Speaker 2: then looked at Tomas with curious amber eyes. Go on,
Speaker 2: Tomas said, you're free. The fox stood very still, then
Speaker 2: stepped forward and nudged its nose against Tomas's hand. A
Speaker 2: moment later, it disappeared into the undergrowth. When Tomas returned
Speaker 2: to the path, he found that the fallen tree was
Speaker 2: no longer blocking the way, or rather, it had split
Speaker 2: neatly down the middle, creating a clear gap, just wide
Speaker 2: enough for a man to pass through. Thomas blinked. He
Speaker 2: looked at the map. The dotted line continued through this
Speaker 2: very gap, as if it had always been there. Kindness
Speaker 2: makes its own paths, he murmured, remembering Old Martyr's words.
Speaker 2: He stepped through the opening and went on. As afternoon
Speaker 2: slid toward evening, the trees thinned and the forest opened
Speaker 2: into a glade. In the middle stood a small cottage
Speaker 2: with a crooked chimney and a garden full of herbs.
Speaker 2: Smoke curled from the chimney, and the smell of soup
Speaker 2: drifted into the air. Tomas approached cautiously. The maps dotted
Speaker 2: line passed right by the cottage door. As he hesitated,
Speaker 2: the door creaked open, and a woman stepped out. Her
Speaker 2: hair was silver, her eyes the color of deep lakes,
Speaker 2: and she wore an apron dusted with flower and dried leaves. Ah,
Speaker 2: she said, smiling. I wondered when you would arrive, Thomas started.
Speaker 2: Do we know each other, madam? Not yet, she said,
Speaker 2: But travelers with maps always come in threes. One who
Speaker 2: seeks gold, one who seeks glory, and one who seeks
Speaker 2: something they cannot yet name. Which are you? Tomas thought
Speaker 2: for a moment. His first answer, the one that leapt
Speaker 2: up in his chest, was gold. But when he opened
Speaker 2: his mouth, different words came out. I seek a better life,
Speaker 2: he said slowly, not only for myself but for my village.
Speaker 2: I am tired of empty cupboards and broken roofs, tired
Speaker 2: of seeing children go to bed hungry. The woman studied
Speaker 2: him closely. A better life, she repeated, that is not
Speaker 2: found in a box alone. She stepped aside. Come in,
Speaker 2: you look hungry. Inside the cottage was warm and cluttered
Speaker 2: with jars and books. She ladled generous portions of soup
Speaker 2: into a bowl and placed it before him with a
Speaker 2: heel of bread as he ate. She asked, do you
Speaker 2: share your bread when you have little? Yes, Thomas replied
Speaker 2: between spoonfuls. It feels wrong to eat when someone beside
Speaker 2: me is hungry. And do you listen to those who
Speaker 2: have nothing to give you? She asked, I I try,
Speaker 2: he said, thinking of the lonely old man who liked
Speaker 2: to tell long stories in the square and the quiet
Speaker 2: woman who always stood at the edge of the market.
Speaker 2: She nodded, Then you may find what you seek and
Speaker 2: keep your heart as well. From a shelf, she took
Speaker 2: a small, smooth stone and placed it in his hand.
Speaker 2: It was pale blue, with tiny veins of white running
Speaker 2: through it. This is the stone of listening, she said.
Speaker 2: It reminds you to be still and hear what the
Speaker 2: world is telling you. Wisdom rarely shouts, It prefers to whisper.
Speaker 2: Thomas turned the stone between his fingers. Thank you, he
Speaker 2: said softly. But why give it to me, because you
Speaker 2: asked for a better life for more than just yourself.
Speaker 2: She replied, When you care for others, the world cares
Speaker 2: for you. Now go, the light is fading and the
Speaker 2: bridge is still a good walk away. He ate the
Speaker 2: last of his soup, thanked her, and stepped back into
Speaker 2: the cooling air, the stone of listening in one pocket,
Speaker 2: the map in the other, and the courage charm warm
Speaker 2: against his chest. The sky turned shades of pink and
Speaker 2: gold as he walked, then slowly deepened to blue. Crickets
Speaker 2: began their evening chorus, and the first stars pricked the sky,
Speaker 2: just as the map suggested. He reached the old Stone
Speaker 2: Bridge and now rrow arched bridge spanning a slow, murmuring river.
Speaker 2: In the center of the bridge stood a figure in
Speaker 2: a cloak, leaning on the parapet and looking down at
Speaker 2: the water. Thomas hesitated, then approached Good evening, he said.
Speaker 2: The figure turned. It was a young woman with a
Speaker 2: thoughtful face and bright eyes. Good evening, she replied, you're
Speaker 2: out late for a traveler. Treasure hunters usually rush past
Speaker 2: without saying a word. Thomas blinked, you know about the treasure.
Speaker 2: The woman smiled faintly. Many have crossed this bridge with
Speaker 2: that same parchment in their hands. Few have come back
Speaker 2: the same. A shiver ran along Thomas's spine. Why is
Speaker 2: that some lose themselves to greed, she said, some to fear,
Speaker 2: some to pride. The map leads to the treasure, but
Speaker 2: it also leads through the heart of the one who
Speaker 2: follows it. She studied him. Why do you seek it?
Speaker 2: He told her of his leaky roof his thin boots,
Speaker 2: the hungry village, and his hope to use the treasure
Speaker 2: for good. As he spoke, he listened to his own words,
Speaker 2: as if hearing them for the first time. I suppose,
Speaker 2: he finished, I want to know I can change something
Speaker 2: that I'm not just a leaf blown by the wind.
Speaker 2: The woman nodded a fair wish. Will you answer a riddle? Tomas,
Speaker 2: you know my name. The river tells me many things,
Speaker 2: she said, Will you listen? He felt the stone of
Speaker 2: listening in his pocket and curled his fingers around it
Speaker 2: for courage. Ask He said, Three travelers come to the river,
Speaker 2: she began. One has a bag of gold, one has
Speaker 2: a bag of grain, and one has empty hands. A
Speaker 2: storm sweeps away the bridge. Who loses the most? Tomas frowned,
Speaker 2: thinking the one with the gold, he guessed he had
Speaker 2: the most to lose, perhaps, she said, or perhaps the
Speaker 2: one with the grain, for he cannot feed the village now.
Speaker 2: And perhaps it is the one with empty hands who
Speaker 2: loses the chance to share the journey, she paused. The
Speaker 2: answer is they all lose, and they all keep something.
Speaker 2: The question is what will you choose to hold so
Speaker 2: tightly that you lose everything else. Tomus fell silent. He
Speaker 2: thought of clutching gold so tightly he forgot his neighbors,
Speaker 2: he imagined, refusing to help someone for fear of delay.
Speaker 2: He imagined, becoming so proud of his no when you
Speaker 2: found riches that he no longer saw the poor man
Speaker 2: he had once been. I will try, he said, finally,
Speaker 2: not to hold anything so tightly that it closes my
Speaker 2: hands to others. The woman smiled, then cross, she said,
Speaker 2: stepping aside. Remember this wealth that costs you, your kindness
Speaker 2: is the most expensive of all. He walked across the bridge,
Speaker 2: the stones cool beneath his tired feet. When he reached
Speaker 2: the other side and turned to thank her, the bridge
Speaker 2: was empty. The woman had vanished, leaving only the murmur
Speaker 2: of the river and the feeling that he had been
Speaker 2: given a quiet, precious gift. The path now climbed, winding
Speaker 2: up a gentle hill. By the time he reached the top,
Speaker 2: the moon had risen, silvering the world must ahead. Silhouetted
Speaker 2: against the sky was a crooked pine tree. It leaned
Speaker 2: slightly to one side, its branches reaching out like arms.
Speaker 2: Thomas's heart thudded. He pulled out the map. The ex
Speaker 2: lay right beneath the sketch of the crooked pine he
Speaker 2: had found it. He walked slowly to the tree, the
Speaker 2: grass whispering around his ankles. At its base, half buried
Speaker 2: in soil, he saw the edge of a wooden box.
Speaker 2: His hands shook as he dug around it. The box
Speaker 2: was heavy, bound in rusted iron. He tugged, and with
Speaker 2: a grunt, pulled it free. Under the moonlight, it looked
Speaker 2: like something out of a story from his childhood. He knelt,
Speaker 2: breath catching in his throat, and lifted the lid. Inside.
Speaker 2: He did not see glittering gold or shimmering j duels.
Speaker 2: He saw coins, yes, but they were simple, old looking,
Speaker 2: made of some dull metal. There were also small objects,
Speaker 2: a child's carved wooden toy, a worn book of stories
Speaker 2: tied with twine, a golden coin with a hole drilled
Speaker 2: through and threaded on a string, a folded letter, a
Speaker 2: small bag of seeds, and a smooth oval mirror. Tomas stared.
Speaker 2: Is this a joke? He whispered, his voice breaking. After
Speaker 2: all his walking, his hopes, his dreams of changing everything,
Speaker 2: this a box of oddments. Disappointment pressed hard on his chest.
Speaker 2: He thought of his cottage with the blue door, the
Speaker 2: roof that leaked old martyr's flower dusted hands, the hungry
Speaker 2: children in the village. Tears pricked his eyes. Quietly, he
Speaker 2: sank back on his heels. The night was very still.
Speaker 2: He remembered the words that had been written on the map,
Speaker 2: riches Lie, where courage, kindness and wisdom walk together. He
Speaker 2: took a deep breath and reached into the box. First,
Speaker 2: he lifted the child's carved toy, a little boat with
Speaker 2: tiny painted sails on the bottom. He saw a name
Speaker 2: carved in neat letters, for Anna, May her dreams sail
Speaker 2: beyond these shores. He smiled sadly. Someone had loved this
Speaker 2: child very much. The toy was not gold, but to
Speaker 2: the right person it would be treasure. Next, he took
Speaker 2: out the worn book of stories. It fell open to
Speaker 2: a page with a tale about a poor shepherd who
Speaker 2: shared his last loaf of bread with a stranger, and
Speaker 2: in return, the stranger showed him a path away from
Speaker 2: the storm. On the inside cover, in faded ink, someone
Speaker 2: had written stories. Are the coins of the heart, Spend
Speaker 2: them generously. The golden coin, threaded on a string, caught
Speaker 2: the moonlight. It was the only obviously valuable thing. On
Speaker 2: one side was an image of a tree, roots and
Speaker 2: branches intertwined. On the other, words so small he had
Speaker 2: to hold them very close to read. Wealth grows when shared.
Speaker 2: The folded letter crackled as he opened it. It was
Speaker 2: from someone long ago, addressed to whoever seeks this treasure.
Speaker 2: It read, if you have found this, you have walked
Speaker 2: the path of courage, kindness, and listening along the way,
Speaker 2: you have already found more treasure, the most sea in
Speaker 2: a lifetime, the gratitude of the saved, the warmth of
Speaker 2: shared food, the wisdom of quiet voices. This chest holds
Speaker 2: not riches of gold, but reminders. With these you may
Speaker 2: plant a forest where there is hunger, tell stories where
Speaker 2: there is despair, and start something that will outlive. Coins
Speaker 2: in a box take what you need, leave something of
Speaker 2: your own for the next traveler. Know this, The true
Speaker 2: treasure is not what lies in the ground, but who
Speaker 2: you become on the journey. Thomas's throat tightened. He took
Speaker 2: out the small bag of seeds and felt their dry
Speaker 2: shapes through the cloth, Seeds that could become grain, fruit, shade,
Speaker 2: seeds that could feed a village. Finally, he lifted the mirror.
Speaker 2: In its oval surface, he saw his own face, tired,
Speaker 2: lined with worry and wonder, eyes shining with tears, but
Speaker 2: also something else. In his gaze. He saw the courage
Speaker 2: that had carried him through the forest, the kindness that
Speaker 2: had freed the fox and saved the child, the wisdom
Speaker 2: that had listened at the cottage and on the bridge.
Speaker 2: He stared at himself for a long moment, then laughed softly.
Speaker 2: All this way, he said to the night, to find
Speaker 2: that the treasure was in my pockets and my heart.
Speaker 2: He looked down at the chest again. Carefully, he slipped
Speaker 2: the golden coin on its string around his neck, next
Speaker 2: to the courage charm. He tucked the bag of seeds
Speaker 2: into his bundle, along with the book of stories. Then
Speaker 2: he thought of the words in the letter leave something
Speaker 2: of your own. He reached into his pocket and pulled
Speaker 2: out the tiny wooden bird his mother had carved. It
Speaker 2: had traveled with him all his life, reminding him that
Speaker 2: his heart could fly. Holding it gently, he placed it
Speaker 2: in the chest, right in the center. For the next traveler,
Speaker 2: he said, softly. May they remember they can rise above
Speaker 2: whatever cages them. He also took one of the dull
Speaker 2: metal coins and slipped it into his pocket as a
Speaker 2: reminder that value is not always obvious. He closed the
Speaker 2: lid of the chest and pushed soil back over it,
Speaker 2: leaving it hidden beneath the crooked pine tree waiting. As
Speaker 2: he began the walk back down the hill, the world
Speaker 2: felt different. The night air seemed full of quiet music,
Speaker 2: the ground solid beneath his feet in a new way.
Speaker 2: The path somehow felt shorter. On his way back through
Speaker 2: the forest, he saw the fox again watching him from
Speaker 2: the shadows. This time its leg was healed. It dipped
Speaker 2: its head as if in thanks, and then bounded away
Speaker 2: a silent blessing. When he reached the cottage in the glade,
Speaker 2: the silver haired woman stood at the door as if
Speaker 2: expecting him. Did you find what you were looking for,
Speaker 2: she asked. Tomas thought of the seeds, the book, the letter,
Speaker 2: the mirror. He thought of the feeling in his chest
Speaker 2: when he had read those words meant for whoever came next.
Speaker 2: I found more than I knew I was seeking, he answered.
Speaker 2: She smiled. Then plant wisely, share kindly, and remember that
Speaker 2: every choice is a seed. The harvest will come. He nodded,
Speaker 2: thanked her again, and continued towards the village. The sky
Speaker 2: was paling with the first hint of dawn when he
Speaker 2: crossed the old stone bridge. This time no one stood
Speaker 2: in the middle, but as he passed, he heard the
Speaker 2: faintest whisper, like the river itself, speaking, hold your wealth
Speaker 2: with open hands. In the village square, early risers were
Speaker 2: beginning their day. Thomas went first to Old Martyr's bakery.
Speaker 2: She looked up in surprise as he stepped in, dusty
Speaker 2: and tired. Well, she demanded, did you find your treasure? Yes,
Speaker 2: he said, simply placing the bag of seeds and the
Speaker 2: book of stories on her counter, and I'd like to
Speaker 2: share it. Over the weeks that followed, Thomas and Martyr
Speaker 2: and many others in the village planted the seeds in
Speaker 2: every spare patch of soil they planted along fences in
Speaker 2: old barrels in the abandoned school yard. Thomas told the
Speaker 2: story from the book each evening in the square, and
Speaker 2: soon the children were telling their own stories too. When
Speaker 2: the harvest came, there was more food than the village
Speaker 2: had seen in years. They stored what they needed and
Speaker 2: gave the surplus to neighboring villages, whose cupboard side even
Speaker 2: more loudly than theirs had. Tomas used a small part
Speaker 2: of his new found wisdom and the golden coin, which
Speaker 2: turned out to be old and rare, enough to fetch
Speaker 2: a good price, to mend his roof and buy sturdy boots.
Speaker 2: But more importantly, he used it to help fix the
Speaker 2: schoolhouse roof, to buy blankets for the elderly, and to
Speaker 2: start a little gathering place where people could share stories
Speaker 2: and skills. People began to say Tomas is rich now,
Speaker 2: and he would laugh and reply yes in all the
Speaker 2: best ways. Sometimes, late at night he would sit by
Speaker 2: his blue door, the courage charm cool against his skin
Speaker 2: and the golden coin warm from the day. He would
Speaker 2: think of the crooked pine tree, the hidden chest, and
Speaker 2: the tiny wooden bird he had left behind. He wondered
Speaker 2: who would find it next. He hoped they would save
Speaker 2: a child or free an animal, listen to a quiet voice,
Speaker 2: and bring back seeds of their own kind. And if
Speaker 2: any villager ever asked him about the treasure, Tomas would
Speaker 2: smile and say, the richest thing I found was this
Speaker 2: treasure that cannot be shared. Is only a heavier burden
Speaker 2: to carry. But when you give your riches away, your
Speaker 2: heart becomes the safest, brightest chest of all. In time,
Speaker 2: people began to notice something strange. No matter how much
Speaker 2: they planted, told, or shared, there always seemed to be enough,
Speaker 2: enough grain, enough stories, enough kindness. It was as if
Speaker 2: an invisible map now ran through the village, leading from
Speaker 2: one open hand to another, from one listening heart to
Speaker 2: the next. And so the poor man who had once
Speaker 2: walked the shore with an empty net became the keeper
Speaker 2: of a different kind of treasure, the courage to begin,
Speaker 2: the kindness to share, and the wisdom to know that
Speaker 2: the true X on any map is not a place
Speaker 2: after all, but a way of walking through the world, gentle,
Speaker 2: fun and peaceful, leaving a trail of small, shining things
Speaker 2: wherever he went, a helping hand here a listening ear there,
Speaker 2: a kind word given just when it was needed. Most
Speaker 2: years later, when children asked their grandparents how the village
Speaker 2: had grown so warm and full and bright, the old
Speaker 2: ones would nod toward the crooked little cottage with the
Speaker 2: blue door and say it began with a man who
Speaker 2: followed a map and discovered that the greatest treasure is
Speaker 2: the goodness you carry and choose to give away. And
Speaker 2: somewhere beneath a crooked pine tree, on a hill above
Speaker 2: the sea, a wooden chest still weights in the earth,
Speaker 2: holding a tiny bird, a letter, and room for all
Speaker 2: the hopes of those who have yet to walk the path,
Speaker 2: ready for the next traveler, brave enough and kind enough
Speaker 2: to seek a different kind of gold. On the edge
Speaker 2: of a small seaside village, in a crooked little cottage
Speaker 2: with a blue door, there lived a poor man named Tomas.
Speaker 2: His roof leaked when it rained, his boots let in
Speaker 2: the wind, and his cupboard seemed always to be sighing
Speaker 2: with emptiness. Yet Thomas was known for his gentle smile
Speaker 2: and the way he always had time to help a
Speaker 2: neighbor carry a basket or fix a squeaky gait. Most mornings,
Speaker 2: he would walk along the shore with a battered fishing
Speaker 2: net over his shoulder, hoping for enough fish to trade
Speaker 2: in the market. The sea was not especially kind to him,
Speaker 2: but Tomas had long ago decided that grumbling never made
Speaker 2: a fish jump into a net, so he whistled instead
Speaker 2: and watched the ULLs circle overhead. One gray morning, when
Speaker 2: the mist was curled low over the water, Tomass saw
Speaker 2: something washed up on the sand. At first, he thought
Speaker 2: it was just another piece of broken wood, but as
Speaker 2: he came closer he noticed it was a small wooden chest,
Speaker 2: no bigger than a loaf of bread. Seaweed clung to
Speaker 2: the hinges, and barnacles dotted the lid like pale buttons.
Speaker 2: Tomass glanced around. No one else was on the beach.
Speaker 2: The waves whispered and slid back, as if inviting him
Speaker 2: to look inside. He knelt beside the chest, hands trembling
Speaker 2: a little, and pried it open with the end of
Speaker 2: a driftwood stick. The lid creaked inside, wrapped in oil skin,
Speaker 2: was a rolled piece of parchment tied with a red
Speaker 2: ribbon that had faded all to pink. He untied the
Speaker 2: ribbon and unfurled the parchment. It crackled as it opened,
Speaker 2: and there, drawn in careful lines and faded ink, was
Speaker 2: a map, A treasure map. Thomas blinked once, as if
Speaker 2: his tired eyes might be playing tricks on him. But
Speaker 2: there it was, the jagged outline of the coastline, the
Speaker 2: twist of the forest behind the village, the distant hills.
Speaker 2: A dotted path led from the village, well through the woods,
Speaker 2: over the old stone bridge, and up to a small
Speaker 2: X marked beneath the sketch of a crooked pine tree.
Speaker 2: Along the edge of the parchment, in neat writing were
Speaker 2: the words riches lie where courage, kindness and wisdom walk together.
Speaker 2: Thomas's heart thudded, real treasure. He imagined heavy gold coins,
Speaker 2: bright jewels, enough riches to mend his roof, fill his cupboard,
Speaker 2: and still have plenty left over to help the neighbors
Speaker 2: whose cupboards also sighed. For a moment, he just stood
Speaker 2: there on the beach, with the mist curling around his ankles,
Speaker 2: the map fluttering in his hands. Then slowly a smile
Speaker 2: spread across his face. Well, he said to the empty shore,
Speaker 2: if the treasure belongs to those three, I'll have to
Speaker 2: invite them along He chuckled at his own joke, rolled
Speaker 2: up the map, and tucked it safely inside his coat.
Speaker 2: That very afternoon, Tomas packed a small bundle, a heel
Speaker 2: of bread, a wedge of hard cheese, a flask of water,
Speaker 2: and the tiny wooden carving of a bird his mother
Speaker 2: had given him when he was very young company. She
Speaker 2: had said, and to remind you that you can always
Speaker 2: find a way to fly in your heart. He locked
Speaker 2: the blue door of his cottage, patted it as if
Speaker 2: promising to come back, and walked into the village square.
Speaker 2: The first person he met was Old Martyr, the baker,
Speaker 2: who stood outside her shop brushing flower from her apron.
Speaker 2: Her back was bent from years of lifting trays, but
Speaker 2: her eyes were sharp and kind. Tomas, she called, you're
Speaker 2: out later than usual. No fish today, Not today, he replied,
Speaker 2: But I found something else. He lowered his voice and
Speaker 2: leaned closer. A map, A treasure map. I'm going on
Speaker 2: a quest. Old Martyr's eyebrows rose treasure, you say, And
Speaker 2: what will you do with it if you find it?
Speaker 2: Fix my roof for a start, Tomas said, buy proper boots.
Speaker 2: And after that he looked around at the shabby houses
Speaker 2: and patched clothes. If there's enough, I'd like to help
Speaker 2: the village, maybe rebuild the old schoolhouse. Put more bread
Speaker 2: on your shelves. No one should go hungry. Martyr studied
Speaker 2: him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. Treasure tests
Speaker 2: the heart more than hunger does, she said. Remember that.
Speaker 2: If you want a bit of advice, take this. She
Speaker 2: went inside and returned with a small, still warm loaf
Speaker 2: of bread for the road. She said, I have food already,
Speaker 2: Thomas protested, And you also have neighbors who care, Marta replied, firmly,
Speaker 2: pressing the loaf into his hands. Kindness given freely has
Speaker 2: a way of finding its way back. Don't be too
Speaker 2: proud to accept it. Thomas's cheeks flushed. He bowed his
Speaker 2: head in thanks. I'll bring you back something good, he promised,
Speaker 2: Bring back your good heart, Marta said, and that will
Speaker 2: be enough. With the bread added to his bundle, Thomas
Speaker 2: followed the first mark on the map. The village well.
Speaker 2: Children were playing nearby, tossing pebbles and listening for the
Speaker 2: plunk as they vanished into the water. As Thomas passed,
Speaker 2: one little boy's ball rolled toward a steep slope. The
Speaker 2: boy chased after it, his feet slipping in the gravel.
Speaker 2: Without thinking, Tomas dropped his bundle and lunged forward, catching
Speaker 2: the boy's arm before he tumbled down the slope. Got you,
Speaker 2: Thomas said, steadying him easy now. The boys stared up
Speaker 2: at him, wide eyed. Thank you, he whispered, clutching his ball.
Speaker 2: Take care, Thomas replied, ruffling his hair. The world is
Speaker 2: full of treasure, but you, little one, are worth more
Speaker 2: than all of it. As he turned back to the path,
Speaker 2: he noticed something tied to the handle of the well,
Speaker 2: a small tin charm shaped like a heart. It must
Speaker 2: have been lost or forgotten. He picked it up. On
Speaker 2: one side was engraved a single word, courage. He smiled. Well,
Speaker 2: then he murmured, looping the charm onto the string around
Speaker 2: his neck. Perhaps courage heard it was invited. He set
Speaker 2: off toward the forest. The trees at the edge of
Speaker 2: the woods stood tall and serious, like sentries. Light filtered
Speaker 2: through the leaves in dappled patches. Birds chattered in the branches,
Speaker 2: and the air smelled of earth and moss. The dotted
Speaker 2: line on the map led to a narrow path winding
Speaker 2: between the trunks. Soon the village was far behind. The
Speaker 2: forest deepened, The sounds of people and carts faded, replaced
Speaker 2: by the rustle of leaves and the occasional snap of
Speaker 2: a twig. After an hour of walking, Thomas came to
Speaker 2: a fallen tree blocking the path. As he considered climbing
Speaker 2: over it, he heard a soft whimpering sound nearby. He
Speaker 2: followed the sound and found a fox, its leg caught
Speaker 2: in a hunter's snare. The poor animal trembled, eyes wide
Speaker 2: with fear and pain. When Thomas approached. The fox bared
Speaker 2: its teeth, but its body shook too much to run. Easy, friend,
Speaker 2: Thomas said, gently, I won't hurt you. He slow jolly
Speaker 2: set down his bundle and took out the small knife
Speaker 2: he used for cutting bread and rope. Speaking softly all
Speaker 2: the while, he knelt beside the fox and worked at
Speaker 2: the snare. The wire had dug deep into the fur,
Speaker 2: and it took time and care to free it. Twice,
Speaker 2: the fox snapped teeth grazing his hand, but Tomas didn't
Speaker 2: pull away. You are afraid, he said, calmly, I understand.
Speaker 2: At last, the wire came loose. The fox limped back,
Speaker 2: testing its leg, then looked at Tomas with curious amber eyes.
Speaker 2: Go on, Tomas said, you're free. The fox stood very still,
Speaker 2: then stepped forward and nudged its nose against Tomas's hand.
Speaker 2: A moment later, it disappeared into the undergrowth. When Tomas
Speaker 2: returned to the path, he found that the fallen tree
Speaker 2: was no longer blocking the way, or rather, it had
Speaker 2: split neatly down the middle, creating a clear gap, just
Speaker 2: wide enough for a man to pass through. Thomas blinked.
Speaker 2: He looked at the map. The dotted line continued through
Speaker 2: this very gap, as if it had always been there.
Speaker 2: Kindness makes its own paths, he murmured, remembering Old Martyr's words.
Speaker 2: He stepped through the opening and went on. As afternoon
Speaker 2: slid toward evening, the trees thinned and the forest opened
Speaker 2: into a glade. In the middle stood a small cottage
Speaker 2: with a crooked chimney and a garden full of herbs.
Speaker 2: Smoke curled from the chimney and the smell of soup
Speaker 2: drifted into the air. Tomas approached cautiously. The map's dotted
Speaker 2: line passed right by the cottage door. As he hesitated,
Speaker 2: the door creaked open, and a woman stepped out, her
Speaker 2: hair was silver, her eyes the color of deep lakes,
Speaker 2: and she wore an apron dusted with flower and dried leaves. Ah,
Speaker 2: she said, smiling. I wondered when you would arrive, Thomas started,
Speaker 2: Do we know each other, madam? Not yet, she said,
Speaker 2: But travelers with maps always come in threes. One who
Speaker 2: seeks gold, one who seeks glory, and one who seeks
Speaker 2: something they cannot yet name. Which are you? Tomas thought
Speaker 2: for a moment. His first answer, the one that leapt
Speaker 2: up in his chest, was gold. But when he opened
Speaker 2: his mouth, different words came out. I seek a better life,
Speaker 2: he said, slowly, not only for myself, but for my village.
Speaker 2: I am tired of empty cupboards and broken roofs, tired
Speaker 2: of seeing children go to bed hungry. The woman studied
Speaker 2: him closely. A better life, she repeated, that is not
Speaker 2: found in a box alone. She stepped aside. Come in,
Speaker 2: you look hungry. Inside the cottage was warm and cluttered
Speaker 2: with jars and books. She ladled generous portions of soup
Speaker 2: into a bowl and placed it before him with a
Speaker 2: heel of bread. As he ate, she asked, do you
Speaker 2: share your bread when you have little? Yes, Thomas replied
Speaker 2: between spoonfuls. It feels wrong to eat when someone beside
Speaker 2: me is hungry. And do you listen to those who
Speaker 2: have nothing to give you, she asked. I I try,
Speaker 2: he said, thinking of the lonely old man who liked
Speaker 2: to tell long stories in the square and the quiet
Speaker 2: woman who always stood at the edge of the market.
Speaker 2: She nodded. Then you may find what you seek and
Speaker 2: keep your heart as well. From a shelf, she took
Speaker 2: a small, smooth stone and placed it in his hand.
Speaker 2: It was pale blue, with tiny veins of white running
Speaker 2: through it. This is the stone of listening, she said.
Speaker 2: It reminds you to be still and hear what the
Speaker 2: world is telling you. Wisdom rarely shouts. It prefers to whisper.
Speaker 2: Thomas turned the stone between his fingers. Thank you, he
Speaker 2: said softly. But why give it to me? Because you
Speaker 2: asked for a better life for more than just yourself,
Speaker 2: she replied, When you care for others, the world cares
Speaker 2: for you. Now go, the light is faded and the
Speaker 2: bridge is still a good walk away. He ate the
Speaker 2: last of his soup, thanked her, and stepped back into
Speaker 2: the cooling air. The Stone of Listening in one pocket.
Speaker 2: The map in the other, and the courage charm warm
Speaker 2: against his chest. The sky turned shades of pink and
Speaker 2: gold as he walked, then slowly deepened to blue. Crickets
Speaker 2: began their evening chorus, and the first stars pricked the sky,
Speaker 2: just as the map suggested. He reached the Old Stone Bridge,
Speaker 2: a narrow arched bridge spanning a slow, murmuring river. In
Speaker 2: the center of the bridge stood a figure in a cloak,
Speaker 2: leaning on the parapet and looking down at the water.
Speaker 2: Thomas hesitated, then approached. Good evening, he said. The figure turned.
Speaker 2: It was a young woman with a thoughtful face and
Speaker 2: bright eyes. Good evening, she replied, you're out late for
Speaker 2: a traveler. Treasure hunters usually rush past without saying a word.
Speaker 2: Thomas blinked, you know about the treasure. The woman smiled faintly.
Speaker 2: Many have crossed this bridge with that same parchment in
Speaker 2: their hands. Few have come back the same. A shiver
Speaker 2: ran along Thomas's spine. Why is that some lose themselves
Speaker 2: to greed, she said, some to fear, some to pride.
Speaker 2: The map leads to the treasure, but it also leads
Speaker 2: through the heart of the one who follows it. She studied, him.
Speaker 2: Why do you seek it? He told her of his
Speaker 2: leaky roof his thin boots, the hungry village, and his
Speaker 2: hope to use the treasure for good. As he spoke,
Speaker 2: he listened to his own words, as if hearing them
Speaker 2: for the first time. I suppose, he finished, I want
Speaker 2: to know I can change something that I'm not just
Speaker 2: a leaf blown by the wind. The woman nodded, a
Speaker 2: fair wish. Will you answer a riddle? Tomas, you know
Speaker 2: my name. The river tells me many things, she said,
Speaker 2: Will you listen? He felt the stone of listening in
Speaker 2: his pocket and curled his fingers around it for courage.
Speaker 2: Ask He said, Three travelers come to the river, she began.
Speaker 2: One has a bag of gold, one has a bag
Speaker 2: of grain, and one has empty hands. A storm sweeps
Speaker 2: away the bridge. Who loses the most? Tomas frowned, thinking
Speaker 2: the one with the gold, he guessed he had the
Speaker 2: most to lose, perhaps, she said, or perhaps the one
Speaker 2: with the grain, for he cannot feed the village now.
Speaker 2: And perhaps it is the one with empty hands who
Speaker 2: loses the chance to share the journey, she paused. The
Speaker 2: answer is they all lose, and they all keep something.
Speaker 2: The question is what will you choose to hold so
Speaker 2: tightly that you lose everything else? Thomas fell silent. He
Speaker 2: thought of clutching gold so tightly he forgot his neighbors,
Speaker 2: he imagined, refusing to help someone for fear of delay.
Speaker 2: He imagined, becoming so proud of his new found riches
Speaker 2: that he no longer saw the poor man he had
Speaker 2: once been. I will try, he said, finally, not to
Speaker 2: hold anything so tightly that it closes my hands to others.
Speaker 2: The woman smiled, then cross, she said, stepping aside. Remember
Speaker 2: this well that costs you. Your kindness is the most
Speaker 2: expensive of all. He walked across the bridge, the stones
Speaker 2: cool beneath his tired feet. When he reached the other
Speaker 2: side and turned to thank her, the bridge was empty.
Speaker 2: The woman had vanished, leaving only the murmur of the
Speaker 2: river and the feeling that he had been given a quiet,
Speaker 2: precious gift. The path now climbed, winding up a gentle hill.
Speaker 2: By the time he reached the top, the moon had risen,
Speaker 2: silvering the world. Just ahead. Silhouetted against the sky was
Speaker 2: a crooked pine tree. It leaned slightly to one side,
Speaker 2: its branches reaching out like arms. Thomas's heart thudded. He
Speaker 2: pulled out the map. The ex lay right beneath the
Speaker 2: sketch of the crooked pine he had found it. He
Speaker 2: walked slowly to the tree, the grass whispering around his ankles.
Speaker 2: At its base, half buried in soil, he saw the
Speaker 2: edge of a wooden box. His hands shook as he
Speaker 2: dug around it. The box was heavy, bound in rusted iron.
Speaker 2: He tugged and with a grunt, pulled it free. Under
Speaker 2: the moonlight, it looked like something out of a story
Speaker 2: from his childhood. He knelt, breath catching in his throat,
Speaker 2: and lifted the lid. Inside. He did not see glittering
Speaker 2: gold or shimmering jewels. He saw coins, yes, but they
Speaker 2: were simple, old looking, made of some dull metal. There
Speaker 2: were also small objects, a child's carved wooden toy, a
Speaker 2: worn book of stories tied with twine, a golden coin
Speaker 2: with a hole drilled through and threaded on a string,
Speaker 2: a folded letter, a small bag of seeds, and a
Speaker 2: smooth oval mirror. Tomas stared. Is this a joke? He whispered,
Speaker 2: his voice breaking. After all his walking, his hopes, his
Speaker 2: dreams of changing everything, this a box of oddments, disappointment
Speaker 2: pressed hard on his chest. He thought of his cottage
Speaker 2: with the blue door, the roof that leaked old martyr's
Speaker 2: flower dusted hands, the hungry children in the village. Tears
Speaker 2: pricked his eyes. Quietly, he sank back on his heels.
Speaker 2: The night was very still. He remembered the words that
Speaker 2: had been written on the map riches Lie where courage,
Speaker 2: kindness and wisdom walk together. He took a deep breath
Speaker 2: and reached into the box. First, he lifted the child's
Speaker 2: carved tory, a little boat with tiny painted sails. On
Speaker 2: the bottom. He saw a name carved in neat letters,
Speaker 2: for Anna, May her dreams sail beyond these shores. He
Speaker 2: smiled sadly. Someone had loved this child very much. The
Speaker 2: toy was not gold, but to the right person it
Speaker 2: would be treasure. Next, he took out the worn book
Speaker 2: of stories. It fell open to a page with a
Speaker 2: tale about a poor shepherd who shared his last loaf
Speaker 2: of bread with a stranger, and in return, the stranger
Speaker 2: showed him a path away from the storm. On the
Speaker 2: inside cover, in faded ink, someone had written stories, are
Speaker 2: the coins of the heart, spend them generously? The golden
Speaker 2: coin threaded on a string, caught the moonlight. It was
Speaker 2: the only obviously valuable thing. On one side was an
Speaker 2: image of a tree, roots and branches intertwined. On the other,
Speaker 2: words so small he had to hold them very close
Speaker 2: to read. Wealth grows when shared. The folded letter crackled
Speaker 2: as he opened it. It was from someone long ago,
Speaker 2: addressed to whoever seeks this treasure. It read, if you
Speaker 2: have found this, you have walked the path of courage, kindness,
Speaker 2: and listening along the way, you have already found more
Speaker 2: treasure than most sea in a lifetime. The gratitude of
Speaker 2: the saved, the warmth of shared food, the wisdom of
Speaker 2: quiet voices. This chest holds not riches of gold, but reminders.
Speaker 2: With these you may plant a forest where there is hunger,
Speaker 2: tell stories where there is despair, and start something will
Speaker 2: outlive coins in a box, take what you need, leave
Speaker 2: something of your own for the next traveler. Know this,
Speaker 2: The true treasure is not what lies in the ground,
Speaker 2: but who you become on the journey. Thomas's throat tightened.
Speaker 2: He took out the small bag of seeds and felt
Speaker 2: their dry shapes through the cloth. Seeds that could become grain, fruit, shade,
Speaker 2: seeds that could feed a village. Finally, he lifted the mirror.
Speaker 2: In its oval surface, he saw his own face, tired,
Speaker 2: lined with worry and wonder, eyes shining with tears, but
Speaker 2: also something else in his gaze. He saw the courage
Speaker 2: that had carried him through the forest, the kindness that
Speaker 2: had freed the fox and saved the child, the wisdom
Speaker 2: that had listened at the cottage and on the bridge.
Speaker 2: He stared at himself for a long moment, then laughed softly.
Speaker 2: All this way, he said to the night, to find
Speaker 2: that the treasure was in my pockets and my heart.
Speaker 2: He looked down at the chest again. Carefully, he slipped
Speaker 2: the golden coin on its string around his neck, next
Speaker 2: to the courage charm. He tucked the bag of seeds
Speaker 2: into his bundle, along with the book of stories. Then
Speaker 2: he thought of the words in the letter, leave something
Speaker 2: of your own. He reached into his pocket and pulled
Speaker 2: out the tiny wooden bird his mother had carved. It
Speaker 2: had traveled with him all his life, reminding him that
Speaker 2: his heart could fly. Holding it gently, he placed it
Speaker 2: in the chest, right in the center. For the next traveler,
Speaker 2: he said, softly, May they remember they can rise a
Speaker 2: above whatever cages them. He also took one of the
Speaker 2: dull metal coins and slipped it into his pocket as
Speaker 2: a reminder that value is not always obvious. He closed
Speaker 2: the lid of the chest and pushed soil back over it,
Speaker 2: leaving it hidden beneath the crooked pine tree waiting. As
Speaker 2: he began the walk back down the hill, the world
Speaker 2: felt different. The night air seemed full of quiet music,
Speaker 2: the ground solid beneath his feet in a new way.
Speaker 2: The path somehow felt shorter. On his way back through
Speaker 2: the forest, he saw the fox again watching him from
Speaker 2: the shadows. This time its leg was healed. It dipped
Speaker 2: its head as if in thanks, and then bounded away
Speaker 2: a silent blessing. When he reached the cottage in the glade,
Speaker 2: the silver haired woman stood at the door, as if
Speaker 2: expecting him. Did you find what you were looking for?
Speaker 1: She asked.
Speaker 2: Tomas thought of the seeds, the book, the letter, the mirror.
Speaker 2: He thought of the feeling in his chest when he
Speaker 2: had read those words meant for whoever came next. I
Speaker 2: found more than I knew I was seeking, he answered.
Speaker 2: She smiled. Then plant wisely, share kindly, and remember that
Speaker 2: every choice is a seed, the harvest will come. He nodded,
Speaker 2: thanked her again, and continued toward the village. The sky
Speaker 2: was paling with the first hint of dawn when he
Speaker 2: crossed the old stone bridge. This time no one stood
Speaker 2: in the middle, but as he passed he heard the
Speaker 2: faintest whisper, like the river itself, speaking, hold your wealth
Speaker 2: with open hands. In the village square, early rises were
Speaker 2: beginning their day. Thomas went first to Old Martyr's bakery.
Speaker 2: She looked up in surprise as he stepped in, dusty
Speaker 2: and tired well, she demanded, did you find your treasure? Yes,
Speaker 2: he said, simply placing the bag of seeds and the
Speaker 2: book of stories on her counter, and I'd like to
Speaker 2: share it. Over the weeks that followed, Thomas and Martyr
Speaker 2: and many others in the village planted the seeds in
Speaker 2: every spare patch of soil. They planted along fences, in
Speaker 2: old barrels in the abandoned school yard. Thomas told the
Speaker 2: story from the book each evening in the square, and
Speaker 2: soon the children were telling their own stories too. When
Speaker 2: the harvest came, there was more food than the village
Speaker 2: had seen in years. They stored what they needed, and
Speaker 2: gave the surplus to neighboring villages whose cupboard side even
Speaker 2: more loudly than theirs had. Thomas used a small part
Speaker 2: of his new found wisdom and the golden coin, which
Speaker 2: turned out to be old and rare enough to fetch
Speaker 2: a good price, to mend his roof and buy sturdy boots.
Speaker 2: But more importantly, he used it to help fix the
Speaker 2: schoolhouse roof, to buy blankets for the elderly, and to
Speaker 2: start a little gathering place where people could share stories
Speaker 2: and skills. People began to say Tomas is rich now,
Speaker 2: and he would laugh and reply yes in all the
Speaker 2: best ways. Sometimes late at night he would sit by
Speaker 2: his blue door, the courage charm cool against his skin
Speaker 2: and the golden coin warm from the day. He would
Speaker 2: think of the crooked pine tree, the hidden chest, and
Speaker 2: the tiny wooden bird he had left behind. He wondered
Speaker 2: who would find it next. He hoped they would save
Speaker 2: a child or free an animal listened to a quiet voice,
Speaker 2: and bring back seeds of their own kind. And if
Speaker 2: any villager ever asked him about the treasure, Tomas would
Speaker 2: smile and say, the richest thing I found was this
Speaker 2: treasure that cannot be shared is only a heavier burden
Speaker 2: to carry. But when you give your riches away, your
Speaker 2: heart becomes the safest, brightest chest of all. In time,
Speaker 2: people began to notice something strange. No matter how much
Speaker 2: they planted, told, or shared, there always seemed to be
Speaker 2: enough enough grain, enough stories, enough kindness. It was as
Speaker 2: if an invisible map now ran through the village, leading
Speaker 2: from one open hand to another, from one listening heart
Speaker 2: to the next. And so the poor man who had
Speaker 2: once walked the shore with an empty net became the
Speaker 2: keeper of a different kind of treasure, the courage to begin,
Speaker 2: the kindness to share, and the wisdom to know that
Speaker 2: the true X on any map is not a place,
Speaker 2: after all, but a way of walking through the world, gentle,
Speaker 2: fun and peaceful, leaving a trail of small, shining things
Speaker 2: wherever he went. A helping hand here, a listening ear there,
Speaker 2: a kind word given just when it was needed. Most
Speaker 2: years later, when children asked their grandparents how the village
Speaker 2: had grown so warm and full and bright, the old
Speaker 2: ones would nod toward the crooked little cottage with the
Speaker 2: blue door and say it began agan with a man
Speaker 2: who followed a map and discovered that the greatest treasure
Speaker 2: is the goodness you carry and choose to give away.
Speaker 2: And somewhere beneath a crooked pine tree, on a hill
Speaker 2: above the sea, a wooden chest still waits in the earth,
Speaker 2: holding a tiny bird, a letter, and room for all
Speaker 2: the hopes of those who have yet to walk the path,
Speaker 2: ready for the next traveler brave enough and kind enough
Speaker 2: to seek a different kind of gold. On the edge
Speaker 2: of a small seaside village, in a crooked, little cottage
Speaker 2: with a blue door, there lived a poor man named Tomas.
Speaker 2: His roof leaked when it rained, his boots let in
Speaker 2: the wind, and his cupboard seemed always to be sighing
Speaker 2: with emptiness. Yet Thomas was known for his gentle smile
Speaker 2: and the way he always had time to help a
Speaker 2: neighbor carry a basket or fix a squeaky gait. Most
Speaker 2: mornings he would walk along the shore with a battered
Speaker 2: fishing net over his shoulder, hoping for enough fish to
Speaker 2: trade in the market. The sea was not especially kind
Speaker 2: to him, but Tomas had long ago decided that grumbling
Speaker 2: never made a fish jump into a net, so he
Speaker 2: whistled instead and watched the gulls circle overhead. One gray morning,
Speaker 2: when the mist was curled low over the water, Tomas
Speaker 2: saw something washed up on the sand. At first he
Speaker 2: thought it was just another piece of broken wood, but
Speaker 2: as he came closer he noticed it was a small
Speaker 2: wooden chest, no bigger than a loaf of bread. Seaweed
Speaker 2: clung to the hinges, and barnacles dotted the lid like
Speaker 2: pale buttons. Tomas glanced around. No one else was on
Speaker 2: the beach. The waves whispered and slid back, as if
Speaker 2: inviting him to look inside. He knelt beside the chest,
Speaker 2: hands trembling a little, and pried it open with the
Speaker 2: end of a driftwood stick. The lid creaked inside, wrapped
Speaker 2: in oil skin, was a rolled piece of parchment, tied
Speaker 2: with a red ribbon that had faded almost to pink.
Speaker 2: He untied the ribbon and unfurled the parchment. It crackled
Speaker 2: as it opened, and there, drawn in careful lines and
Speaker 2: faded ink, was a map, A treasure map. Thomas blinked once,
Speaker 2: as if his tired eyes might be playing tricks on him.
Speaker 2: But there it was, the jagged outline of the coastline,
Speaker 2: the twist of the forest behind the village the distant hills.
Speaker 2: A dotted path led from the village, well through the woods,
Speaker 2: over the old stone bridge, and up to a small
Speaker 2: x marked beneath the sketch of a crooked pine tree.
Speaker 2: Along the edge of the parchment in neat writing, where
Speaker 2: the words riches lie, where courage, kindness and wisdom walk together.
Speaker 2: Thomas's heart thudded real treasure. He imagined heavy gold, coins,
Speaker 2: bright jewels, enough riches to mend his roof, fill his cupboard,
Speaker 2: and still have plenty left over to help the neighbors
Speaker 2: whose cupboards also sighed. For a moment, he just stood
Speaker 2: there on the beach, with the mist curling around his ankles,
Speaker 2: the map fluttering in his hands. Then slowly a smile
Speaker 2: spread across his face. Well, he said to the empty shore,
Speaker 2: if the treasure belongs to those three, I'll have to
Speaker 2: invite them along. He chuckled at his own joke, rolled
Speaker 2: up the map and tucked it safely inside his coat.
Speaker 2: That very afternoon, Tomas packed a small bundle, a heel
Speaker 2: of bread, a wedge of hard cheese, a flask of water,
Speaker 2: and the tiny wooden carving of a bird his mother
Speaker 2: had given him when he was very young for company,
Speaker 2: she had said, and to remind you that you can
Speaker 2: always find a way to fly in your heart. He
Speaker 2: locked the blue door of his cottage, patted it as
Speaker 2: if promising to come back, and walked into the village square.
Speaker 2: The first person he met was Old Martyr, the baker,
Speaker 2: who stood outside her shop brushing flour from her apron.
Speaker 2: Her back was bent from years of lifting trays, but
Speaker 2: her eyes were sharp and kind. Thomas, she called, you're
Speaker 2: out later than usual. No fish today, Not today, he replied,
Speaker 2: But I found something else. He lowered his voice and
Speaker 2: leaned closer. A map, A treasure map. I'm going on
Speaker 2: a quest. Old Martyr's eyebrows rose. Treasure, you say, And
Speaker 2: what will you do with it if you find it?
Speaker 2: Fix my roof for a start, Tomas said, buy proper boots.
Speaker 2: And after that he looked around at the shabby houses
Speaker 2: and patched clothes. If there's enough, I'd like to help
Speaker 2: the village, maybe rebuild the old schoolhouse. Put more bread
Speaker 2: on your shelves. No one should go hungry. Martyr studied
Speaker 2: him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. Treasure tests
Speaker 2: the heart more than hunger does, she said, remember that
Speaker 2: if you want a bit of advice, take this. She
Speaker 2: went inside and returned with a small, still warm loaf
Speaker 2: of bread for the road. She said, I have food already,
Speaker 2: Thomas protested, And you also have neighbors who care, Marta replied, firmly,
Speaker 2: pressing the loaf into his hands. Kindness given freely has
Speaker 2: a way of finding its way back. Don't be too
Speaker 2: proud to accept it. Thomas's cheeks flushed. He bowed his
Speaker 2: head in thanks. I'll bring you back something good, he promised,
Speaker 2: Bring back your good heart, Marta said, and that will
Speaker 2: be enough. With the bread added to his bundle, Thomas
Speaker 2: followed the first mark on the map. The village well.
Speaker 2: Children were playing nearby, tossing pebbles and listening for the
Speaker 2: plunk as they vanished into the water. As Thomas passed,
Speaker 2: one little boy's ball rolled toward a steep slope. The
Speaker 2: boy chased after it, his feet slipping in the gravel.
Speaker 2: Without thinking, Thomas dropped his bundle and lunged forward, catching
Speaker 2: the boy's arm before he tumbled down the slope. Got you,
Speaker 2: Thomas said, steadying him easy now. The boys stared up
Speaker 2: at him, wide eyed. Thank you, he whispered, clutching his ball.
Speaker 2: Take care, Thomas replied, ruffling his hair. The world is
Speaker 2: full of treasure, but you, little one, are worth more
Speaker 2: than all of it. As he turned back to the path,
Speaker 2: he noticed something tied to the handle of the well,
Speaker 2: a small tin charm shaped like a heart. It must
Speaker 2: have been lost or forgotten. He picked it up. On
Speaker 2: one side was engraved a single word, courage. He smiled, well,
Speaker 2: then he murmured, looping the charm onto the string around
Speaker 2: his neck. Perhaps courage heard it was invited. He set
Speaker 2: off toward the forest. The trees at the edge of
Speaker 2: the woods stood tall and serious, like sentries. Light filtered
Speaker 2: through the leaves in dappled patches, Birds chattered in the branches,
Speaker 2: and the air smelled of earth and moss. The dotted
Speaker 2: line on the map led to a narrow path winding
Speaker 2: between the trunks. Soon the village was far behind. The
Speaker 2: forest deepened, The sounds of people and carts faded, replaced
Speaker 2: by the rustle of leaves and the occasional snap of
Speaker 2: a twig. After an hour of walking, Thomas came to
Speaker 2: a fallen tree blocking the path. As he considered climbing
Speaker 2: over it, he heard a soft whimpering sound nearby. He
Speaker 2: followed the sound and found a fox, its leg caught
Speaker 2: in a hunter's snare. The poor animal trembled, eyes wide
Speaker 2: with fear and pain. When Thomas approached, the fox bared
Speaker 2: its teeth, but its body shook too much to run. Easy, friend,
Speaker 2: Thomas said, gently, I won't hurt you. He slowly set
Speaker 2: down his bundle and took out the small knife he
Speaker 2: used for cutting bread and rope. Speaking softly all the while,
Speaker 2: he knelt beside the fox and worked at the snare.
Speaker 2: The wire had dug deep into the fur, and it
Speaker 2: took time and care to free it. Twice the fox
Speaker 2: snapped teeth grazing his hand, but Thomas didn't pull away.
Speaker 2: You are afraid, he said, calmly, I understand. At last,
Speaker 2: the wire came loose. The fox limped back, testing its leg,
Speaker 2: then looked at Tomas with curious amber eyes. Go on,
Speaker 2: Tomas said, you're free. The fox stood very still, then
Speaker 2: stepped forward and nudged its nose against Tomas's hand. A
Speaker 2: moment later, it disappeared into the undergrowth. When Tomas returned
Speaker 2: to the path, he found that the fallen tree was
Speaker 2: no longer blocking the way, or rather, it had split
Speaker 2: neatly down the middle, creating a clear gap, just wide
Speaker 2: enough for a man to pass through. Thomas blinked. He
Speaker 2: looked at the map. The dotted line continued through this
Speaker 2: very gap, as if it had always been there. Kindness
Speaker 2: makes its own paths, he murmured, remembering old Martyr's words.
Speaker 2: He stepped through the opening and went on. As afternoon
Speaker 2: slid toward evening, the trees thinned and the forest opened
Speaker 2: into a glade. In the middle stood a small cottage
Speaker 2: with a crooked chimney and a garden full of herbs.
Speaker 2: Smoke curled from the chimney and the smell of soup
Speaker 2: drifted into the air. Tomas approached cautiously. The maps dotted
Speaker 2: line passed right by the cottage door. As he hesitated,
Speaker 2: the door creaked open and a woman stepped out. Her
Speaker 2: hair was silver, her eyes the color of deep lakes,
Speaker 2: and she wore an apron dusted with flower and dried leaves. Ah,
Speaker 2: she said, smiling. I wondered when you would arrive, Thomas started.
Speaker 2: Do we know we know each other? Madam? Not yet,
Speaker 2: she said, But travelers with maps always come in threes.
Speaker 2: One who seeks gold, one who seeks glory, and one
Speaker 2: who seeks something they cannot yet name. Which are you?
Speaker 2: Tomas thought for a moment. His first answer, the one
Speaker 2: that leapt up in his chest, was gold. But when
Speaker 2: he opened his mouth, different words came out. I seek
Speaker 2: a better life, he said slowly, not only for myself,
Speaker 2: but for my village. I am tired of empty cupboards
Speaker 2: and broken roofs, tired of seeing children go to bed hungry.
Speaker 2: The woman studied him closely. A better life, she repeated,
Speaker 2: that is not found in a box alone. She stepped aside.
Speaker 2: Come in, you look hungry. Inside the cottage was warm
Speaker 2: and cluttered with jars and books. She ladled generous portions
Speaker 2: of soup into a bowl and placed it before him
Speaker 2: with a heel of bread. As he ate, She asked,
Speaker 2: do you share your bread when you have little? Yes,
Speaker 2: Thomas replied, between spoonfuls. It feels wrong to eat when
Speaker 2: someone beside me is hungry. And do you listen to
Speaker 2: those who have nothing to give you? She asked, I
Speaker 2: I try, he said, thinking of the lonely old man
Speaker 2: who liked to tell long stories in the square, and
Speaker 2: the quiet woman who always stood at the edge of
Speaker 2: the market. She nodded. Then you may find what you
Speaker 2: seek and keep your heart as well. From a shelf,
Speaker 2: she took a small smooth stone and placed it in
Speaker 2: his hand. It was pale blue, with tiny veins of
Speaker 2: white running through it. This is the stone of Listening,
Speaker 2: she said. It reminds you to be still and hear
Speaker 2: what the world is telling you. Wisdom rarely shouts. It
Speaker 2: prefers to whisper. Thomas turned the stone between his fingers.
Speaker 2: Thank you, he said, softly. But why give it to me?
Speaker 2: Because you asked for a better life, for more than
Speaker 2: just yourself, she replied. When you care for others, the
Speaker 2: world cares for you. Now go, the light is fading
Speaker 2: and the bridge is still a good walk away. He
Speaker 2: ate the last of his soup, thanked her, and stepped
Speaker 2: back into the cooling air, the Stone of Listening in
Speaker 2: one pocket, the map in the other, and the courage
Speaker 2: charm warm against his chest. The sky turned shades of
Speaker 2: pink and gold as he walked, then slowly deep and
Speaker 2: to blue. Crickets began their evening chorus, and the first
Speaker 2: stars pricked the sky. Just as the map suggested. He
Speaker 2: reached the old Stone Bridge a narrow arched bridge spanning
Speaker 2: a slow, murmuring river. In the center of the bridge
Speaker 2: stood a figure in a cloak, leaning on the parapet
Speaker 2: and looking down at the water. Thomas hesitated, then approached
Speaker 2: Good evening, he said. The figure turned. It was a
Speaker 2: young woman with a thoughtful face and bright eyes. Good evening,
Speaker 2: she replied, you're out late for a traveler. Treasure hunters
Speaker 2: usually rush past without saying a word. Thomas blinked, you
Speaker 2: know about the treasure. The woman smiled faintly. Many have
Speaker 2: crossed this bridge with that same parchment in their hairs.
Speaker 2: Few have come back the same. A shiver ran along
Speaker 2: Thomas's spine. Why is that some lose themselves to greed,
Speaker 2: she said, some to fear, some to pride. The map
Speaker 2: leads to the treasure, but it also leads through the
Speaker 2: heart of the one who follows it. She studied him.
Speaker 2: Why do you seek it? He told her of his
Speaker 2: leaky roof his thin boots, the hungry village, and his
Speaker 2: hope to use the treasure for good. As he spoke,
Speaker 2: he listened to his own words, as if hearing them
Speaker 2: for the first time. I suppose, he finished, I want
Speaker 2: to know I can change something that I'm not just
Speaker 2: a leaf blown by the wind. The woman nodded, a
Speaker 2: fair wish. Will you answer a riddle? Tomas, you know
Speaker 2: my name. The river tells me many things, she said,
Speaker 2: will you listen? He felt the stone of listening in
Speaker 2: his pocket and curled his fingers around it for courage.
Speaker 2: Ask He said, Three travelers come to the river, she began.
Speaker 2: One has a bag of gold, one has a bag
Speaker 2: of grain, and one has empty hands. A storm sweeps
Speaker 2: away the bridge. Who loses the most? Tomas frowned, thinking
Speaker 2: the one with the gold, he guessed he had the
Speaker 2: most to lose, Perhaps, she said, Or perhaps the one
Speaker 2: with the grain, for he cannot feed the village now.
Speaker 2: And perhaps it is the one with empty hands who
Speaker 2: loses the chance to share the journey, she paused. The
Speaker 2: answer is they all lose, and they all keep something.
Speaker 2: The question is what will you choose to hold so
Speaker 2: tightly that you lose everything else? Tom Us fell silent.
Speaker 2: He thought of clutching gold so tightly he forgot his neighbors,
Speaker 2: he imagined, refusing to help someone for fear of delay.
Speaker 2: He imagined becoming so proud of his new found riches
Speaker 2: that he no longer saw the poor man he had
Speaker 2: once been. I will try, he said, finally, not to
Speaker 2: hold anything so tightly that it closes my hands to others.
Speaker 2: The woman smiled, then cross, she said, stepping aside. Remember
Speaker 2: this wealth that costs you, your kindness is the most
Speaker 2: expensive of all. He walked across the bridge, the stones
Speaker 2: cool beneath his tired feet. When he reached the other
Speaker 2: side and turned to thank her, the bridge was empty.
Speaker 2: The woman had vanished, leaving only the murmur of the
Speaker 2: river and the feeling that he had been given a quiet,
Speaker 2: precious gift. The path now climbed, winding up a gentle hill.
Speaker 2: By the time he reached the top, the moon had risen,
Speaker 2: silvering the world. Just ahead, silhouetted against the sky was
Speaker 2: a crooked pine tree. It leaned slightly to one side,
Speaker 2: its branches reaching out like arms. Thomas's heart thudded. He
Speaker 2: pulled out the map. The ex lay right beneath the
Speaker 2: sketch of the crooked pine he had found it. He
Speaker 2: walked slowly to the tree, the grass whispering around his ankles.
Speaker 2: At its base, half buried in soil, he saw the
Speaker 2: edge of a wooden box, His hands shook as he
Speaker 2: dug around it. The box was heavy, bound in rusted iron.
Speaker 2: He tugged, and with a grunt, pulled it free. Under
Speaker 2: the moonlight, it looked like something out of a story
Speaker 2: from his childhood. He knelt, breath catching in his throat,
Speaker 2: and lifted the lid. Inside. He did not see glittering
Speaker 2: gold or shimmering jewels. He saw coins, yes, but they
Speaker 2: were simple, old looking, made of some dull metal. There
Speaker 2: were also small objects, a child's carved wooden toy, a
Speaker 2: worn book of stories tied with twine, a golden coin
Speaker 2: with a hole drilled through and threaded on a string,
Speaker 2: a folded letter, a small bag of seeds, and a
Speaker 2: smooth oval mirror. Tomas stared. Is this a joke? He whispered,
Speaker 2: his voice breaking. After all his walking, his hopes, his
Speaker 2: dreams of changing everything, this a box of oddments. Disappointment
Speaker 2: pressed hard on his chest. He thought of his cottage
Speaker 2: with the blue door, the roof that leaked, old martyr's
Speaker 2: flower dusted hands, the hungry children in the village. Tears
Speaker 2: pricked his eyes. Quietly, he sank back on his heels.
Speaker 2: The night was very still. He remembered the words that
Speaker 2: had been written on the map riches lie where courage, kindness,
Speaker 2: and wisdom walk together. He took a deep breath and
Speaker 2: reached into the box. First, he lifted the child's carved toy,
Speaker 2: a little boat with tiny painted sails. On the bottom.
Speaker 2: He saw a name carved in neat letters, for Anna,
Speaker 2: May her dreams sail beyond these shores. He smiled sadly.
Speaker 2: Someone had loved this child very much. The toy was
Speaker 2: not gold, but to the right person it would be treasure. Next,
Speaker 2: he took out the worn book of stories. It fell
Speaker 2: open to a page with a tale about a poor
Speaker 2: shepherd who shared his last loaf of bread with a stranger,
Speaker 2: and in return, the stranger showed him a path away
Speaker 2: from the storm. On the inside cover, in faded ink,
Speaker 2: someone had written stories, are the coins of the heart,
Speaker 2: Spend them generously. The golden coin, threaded on a string,
Speaker 2: caught the moonlight. It was the only obviously valuable thing.
Speaker 2: On one side was an image of a tree, roots
Speaker 2: and branches intertwined. On the other, words so small he
Speaker 2: had to hold them very close to read. Wealth grows
Speaker 2: when shared. The folded letter crackled as he opened it.
Speaker 2: It was from someone long ago, addressed to who ever
Speaker 2: seeks this treasure, It read, if you have found this,
Speaker 2: you have walked the path of courage, kindness, and listening
Speaker 2: along the way, you have already found more treasure than
Speaker 2: most sea in a lifetime, the gratitude of the saved,
Speaker 2: the warmth of shared food, the wisdom of quiet voices.
Speaker 2: This chest holds not riches of gold, but reminders. With
Speaker 2: these you may plant a forest where there is hunger,
Speaker 2: tell stories where there is despair, and start something that
Speaker 2: will outlive. Coins in a box, take what you need,
Speaker 2: leave something of your own for the next traveler. Know this,
Speaker 2: The true treasure is not what lies in the ground,
Speaker 2: but who you become on the journey. Thomas's throat tightened.
Speaker 2: He took out the small bag of seeds and felt
Speaker 2: their dry shapes through the cloth, seeds that could become grain, fruit, shade,
Speaker 2: seeds that could feed a village. Finally, he lifted the mirror.
Speaker 2: In its oval surface, he saw his own face, tired,
Speaker 2: lined with worry and wonder, eyes shining with tears, but
Speaker 2: also something else. In his gaze. He saw the courage
Speaker 2: that had carried him through the forest, the kindness that
Speaker 2: had freed the fox and saved the child the wisdom
Speaker 2: that had listened at the cottage and on the bridge.
Speaker 2: He stared at himself for a long moment, then laughed softly.
Speaker 2: All this way, he said to the night, to find
Speaker 2: that the treasure was in my pockets and my heart.
Speaker 2: He looked down at the chest again. Carefully. He slipped
Speaker 2: the golden coin on its string around his neck next
Speaker 2: to the courage charm, tucked the bag of seeds into
Speaker 2: his bundle, along with the book of stories. Then he
Speaker 2: thought of the words in the letter, leave something of
Speaker 2: your own. He reached into his pocket and pulled out
Speaker 2: the tiny wooden bird his mother had carved. It had
Speaker 2: traveled with him all his life, reminding him that his
Speaker 2: heart could fly. Holding it gently, he placed it in
Speaker 2: the chest, right in the center. For the next traveler,
Speaker 2: he said, softly, May they remember they can rise above
Speaker 2: whatever cages them. He also took one of the dull
Speaker 2: metal coins and slipped it into his pocket as a
Speaker 2: reminder that value is not always obvious. He closed the
Speaker 2: lid of the chest and pushed soil back over it,
Speaker 2: leaving it hidden beneath the crooked pine tree, waiting as
Speaker 2: he began the walk back down the hill. The world
Speaker 2: felt different. The night air seemed full of quiet music,
Speaker 2: the ground solid beneath his feet in a new way.
Speaker 2: The path somehow felt shorter. On his way back through
Speaker 2: the forest, he saw the fox again watching him from
Speaker 2: the shadows. This time its leg was healed. It dipped
Speaker 2: its head as if in thanks, and then bounded away
Speaker 2: a silent blessing. When he reached the cottage in the glade,
Speaker 2: the silver haired woman stood at the door, as if
Speaker 2: expecting him. Did you find what you were looking for?
Speaker 1: She asked.
Speaker 2: Tomas thought of the seeds, the book, the letter, the mirror.
Speaker 2: He thought of the feeling in his chest when he
Speaker 2: had read those words meant for whoever came next. I
Speaker 2: found more than I knew I was seeking, he answered.
Speaker 2: She smiled. Then plant wisely, share kindly, and remember that
Speaker 2: every choice is a seed. The harvest will come. He nodded,
Speaker 2: thanked her again, and continued toward the village. The sky
Speaker 2: was paling with the first hint of dawn when he
Speaker 2: crossed the old stone bridge. This time no one stood
Speaker 2: in the middle, but as he passed he heard the
Speaker 2: faintest whisper like the river itself speaking, hold your wealth
Speaker 2: with open hands. In the village square, early risers were
Speaker 2: beginning their day. Tomas went first to Old Martyr's bakery.
Speaker 2: She looked up in surprise as he stepped in, dusty
Speaker 2: and tired. Well, she demanded, did you find your treasure? Yes,
Speaker 2: he said, simply placing the bag of seeds and the
Speaker 2: book of stories on her counter, and I'd like to
Speaker 2: share it. Over the weeks that followed, Thomas and Martyr
Speaker 2: and many others in the village planted the seeds in
Speaker 2: every spare patch of soil. They planted along fences, in
Speaker 2: old barrels in the abandoned school yard. Thomas told the
Speaker 2: story from the book each evening in the square, and
Speaker 2: soon the children were telling their own stories too. When
Speaker 2: the harvest came, there was more food than the village
Speaker 2: had seen in years. They stored what they needed and
Speaker 2: gave the surplus to neighboring villages, whose cupboard side even
Speaker 2: more loudly than theirs had. Thomas used a small part
Speaker 2: of his new found wisdom and the golden coin, which
Speaker 2: turned out to be old and rare enough to fetch
Speaker 2: a good price, to mend his roof and buy sturdy boots.
Speaker 2: But more importantly, he used it to help fix the
Speaker 2: schoolhouse roof, to buy blankets for the elderly, and to
Speaker 2: start a little gathering place where people could share stories
Speaker 2: and skills. People began to say Tomas is rich now,
Speaker 2: and he would laugh and reply yes in all the
Speaker 2: best ways. Sometimes late at night he would sit by
Speaker 2: his blue door, the courage charm cool against his skin
Speaker 2: and the golden coin warm from the day. He would
Speaker 2: think of the crooked pine tree, the hidden chest, and
Speaker 2: the tiny wooden bird he had left behind. He wondered
Speaker 2: who would find it next. He hoped they would save
Speaker 2: a child or free an animal, listen to a quiet voice,
Speaker 2: and bring back seeds of their own kind. And if
Speaker 2: any villager ever asked him about the treasure, Tomas would
Speaker 2: smile and say, the richest thing I found was this
Speaker 2: treasure that cannot be shared. Is only a heavier burden
Speaker 2: to carry. But when you give your riches away, your
Speaker 2: heart becomes the safest, brightest chest of all. In time,
Speaker 2: people began to notice something strange. No matter how much
Speaker 2: they planted, told, or shared, there always seemed to be
Speaker 2: enough enough grain, enough stories, enough kindness. It was as
Speaker 2: if an invisible map now ran through the village, leading
Speaker 2: from one open hand to another, from one listening heart
Speaker 2: to the next. And so the poor man who had
Speaker 2: once walked the shore with an empty net became the
Speaker 2: keeper of a different kind of treasure, the courage to begin,
Speaker 2: the kindness to share, and the wisdom to know that
Speaker 2: the true X on any map is not a place
Speaker 2: of all, but a way of walking through the world, gentle,
Speaker 2: fun and peaceful, leaving a trail of small, shining things
Speaker 2: wherever he went. A helping hand here, a listening ear there,
Speaker 2: a kind word given just when it was needed. Most
Speaker 2: years later, when children asked their grandparents how the village
Speaker 2: had grown so warm and full and bright, the old
Speaker 2: ones would nod toward the crooked little cottage with the
Speaker 2: blue door and say it began with a man who
Speaker 2: followed a map and discovered that the greatest treasure is
Speaker 2: the goodness you carry and choose to give away. And somewhere,
Speaker 2: beneath a crooked pine tree, on a hill above the sea,
Speaker 2: a wooden chest still waits in the earth, holding a
Speaker 2: tiny bird, a letter, and room for all the hopes
Speaker 2: of thee those who have yet to walk the path
Speaker 2: ready for the next traveler, brave enough and kind enough
Speaker 2: to seek a different kind of gold.
Speaker 1: And it.
Speaker 3: S Stoon, super it, stop it