In a tiny little village there lived an old man and his wife. And because the village was so very small, no one else lived there besides them. The old man went fishing every day—the sea was nearby—while his wife grew vegetables in the garden and cooked all sorts of delicious meals for him.
The old man and woman also kept chooks, which laid eggs for them every day. The wife loved her hens dearly. She asked her husband to build them a lovely chook pen, and in the cold months she'd put down straw so they wouldn't get chilly.
The old man and woman lived in perfect harmony. They loved each other very much and always looked after one another. They did everything together—weeding the veggie patch, cleaning out the chook pen, and tidying up the house. The old man called his wife Goodheart, because she truly was kind, caring, and generous. When a family in the neighbouring town had no money at all, the wife would walk to their home and bring treats for the children—and it was a long way to the neighbouring town, more than three hours at a steady pace.
Then one fine evening, when it was time to go to the shed for eggs, the old man heard his wife cry out:
Love! Come here quickly! There's something in the shed!!
The old man was frightened. What could it be? Perhaps a fox had got in and eaten all the chooks!
He leapt from his chair and rushed to the shed. When he got there, he couldn't believe his eyes. In a cosy corner, on golden straw, lay an egg—but not an ordinary one. This egg was made of gold.
How can this be? Can chooks really lay eggs of pure gold? Crikey, love! Where did you get this egg?
The old man exclaimed in astonishment.
Where do you think? A chook laid it! I've only just come in and found it here! Does this mean we're the richest people in the whole world now?
The wife cried out, still not believing her eyes.
Well, I don't know, but this egg is enough for us to live well and never have to work in the garden again. Actually, I reckon we should hide it away somewhere safe, just in case. You never know what might happen.
The old man said cheerfully.
And that's what they did. They made a small wooden box, the old man fitted a sturdy lock, and they placed the golden egg inside. Then they went to bed.
Morning came, and the old man got up early as usual to go fishing. Taking his rods and bait, he stepped outside and saw his wife hammering huge stakes into the ground.
What on earth are you doing, love? Why are you burying those great logs in the ground? The sun's only just coming up and you're already out here mucking about.
I'm building a fence so no one can come in and ask us for anything. I'm not giving away our stuff to just anyone anymore. From now on I won't give anyone anything or share anything with anyone. And you, old man, don't you touch anything in the fridge either. I'm not feeding you anymore.
The wife muttered under her breath.
Have you completely lost your mind? What are you doing? We've lived side by side for so many years! I'm going fishing now, I'll catch some fish, and tonight we'll cook it and celebrate our golden egg.
No, old man. You go fishing, then bring me the fish. I'll eat it myself.
The old man couldn't believe his ears. When he came home that evening with his catch, it all came true. The wife took the fish and left him hungry. After they got that egg, she'd gone mad—become greedy and nasty. Days went by like this. The old man ate nothing at all, while the wife kept everything for herself.
So the old man gathered up all his belongings, tied them in a bundle, and set off wherever his feet would take him. He wandered through the bush, found berries to eat, sometimes went fishing and cooked fish over a campfire. The old man slept in a humpy he'd built himself from branches and leaves.
A week passed. The wife had accumulated so much stuff that it wouldn't all fit in the house. She did everything in the garden herself, cleaned the house herself, and even had to go fishing for tasty fish by herself.
Then she thought:
On my own, I just can't manage all this. And the evenings are boring and sad. I can't go into the bush by myself anymore—it's too scary. What do I need this egg for? What am I supposed to do with it? Meanwhile my old man is wandering alone through the bush, not eating anything, freezing. And he always treated me well and helped me, looked after me.
The wife grabbed her jacket and set off to find her husband. She walked through the bush, and suddenly saw a light in the distance—someone had lit a fire. She came closer and saw the old man sitting there, looking sad.
Love, my dear old man! I've finally found you! Come home. I've cooked so many delicious things. I'll warm you up and feed you. We'll live like we used to, helping each other and looking after one another.
But what about the golden egg? After it appeared, you became so greedy and nasty.
The old man asked.
No, love, I understand now. I don't need any wealth, any golden egg. I miss you so much. I'm so lonely in the evenings. I want to talk with you and have a laugh. And I've got no one to cook delicious meals for. Come home, my dear!
The old woman pleaded.
After a few days, everything was back to normal. Laughter rang through the house again. The old man and woman worked together in the veggie patch, and the wife even started going fishing with her husband.
Fairy tales are written so that people understand that sometimes happiness isn't found in wealth. The main thing is to have your loved ones close by—everything else is rubbish.
