A Short Story : The Golden Egg

This Short Story The Golden Egg is quite interesting to all the people. Enjoy
reading this story.

Haria, a poor barber lived alone in his small hut. He was dedicated to his
work. And whatever he earns was enough to fulfill his needs.

One evening, after returning from work, Haria was hungry. “What shall I
cook tonight?" he thought. Just then he heard a hen clucking outside his hut. “That
hen would make a great feast for me," thought Haria and prepared to catch the hen.

With a little effort he was able to catch the hen. As he was about to kill the
hen, it squeaked, “Please do not kill me, O kind man! I will help you." Haria
stopped. Though he was surprised that the hen spoke, he asked, “How can you help
me?"

“If you spare my life, I will lay a golden egg everyday for you," said the hen.
Haria’s eyes got widened in delight. Haria was surprised to hear this promise. “A
golden egg! That too everyday! But why should I believe you? You might be
lying," said Haria. “If I do not lay a golden egg tomorrow, you can kill me," said
the hen. After this promise, Haria spared the hen and waited for the next day.

The next morning, Haria found a golden egg lying outside his hut and the
hen sitting beside it. “It is true! You really can lay a golden egg!" exclaimed Haria
with great delight. He did not reveal this incident to any one, fearing that others
would catch the hen.

From that day onwards, the hen would lay a golden egg everyday. In return,
Haria took good care of the hen. Very soon, Haria became rich.
But he became greedy. He thought, “If I cut open the hen’s stomach, I can get out
all the golden eggs at once. I do not have to wait for the hen to lay the golden eggs
one by one."

That night, he brought the hen to the interior portion of his house and killed
the hen. But to his dismay, he found no golden eggs. Not even one.

“What have I done? My greed had made me kill the hen," he wailed. But it
was too late.
A Short Story : Bad Temper

There once was a little boy who had a bad temper. His father gave him a bag of nails and told
him that every time he lost his temper, he must hammer a nail into the back of the fence.

The first day, the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Over the next few weeks, as he learned
to control his anger, the number of nails hammered daily gradually dwindled down. He
discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence.

Finally the day came when the boy didn't lose his temper at all. He told his father about it and
the father suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his
temper. The days passed and the boy was finally able to tell his father that all the nails were
gone.

The father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence. He said, "You have done well, my
son, but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same. When you say things
in anger, they leave a scar just like this one. You can put a knife in a man and draw it out. It
won't matter how many times you say I'm sorry. The wound is still there."

A verbal wound is as bad as a physical one.