Hans worked for a generous man for seven long years. One day, Hans said,
”It's time for me to go home to my mother. May I now collect my wages?”
The man replied,
”You've been a great help all these years, and I want to reward you fairly.”
With that, he handed Hans a lump of gold as large as his head. Hans wrapped the gold in a bag, slung it over his shoulder, and set off toward home. As he walked along the road, he came across a man riding a horse.

”Oh, what a wonderful thing it must be to ride!” cried Hans. ”It must feel like sitting in a comfortable chair, and you reach the end of your journey without stubbing your toes on every stone.”
The rider heard this and said,
”Then tell me, Hans, why do you walk when you long to ride?”
”I must carry this lump of gold home,” said Hans. ”It is the reward for my seven years of work. It's so heavy it hurts my shoulder and pulls my head to one side.”
”Well,” said the rider, slowing his horse, ”I can spare you that burden. I'll give you my horse if you give me your lump of gold.”
”Gladly-and thank you!” said Hans. ”But you will have quite a time carrying it.”

The man got down and took the lump of gold. Then he helped Hans mount and placed the bridle in his hands.
”When you wish to go fast,” he said, ”you have only to cluck with your tongue and cry, 'Get up!'”
Hans was delighted to sit on the horse. For a while, he rode along slowly.

Then he thought he would like to go faster. So he clucked with his tongue and said,
”Get up! Get up!”
The horse began to trot. As Hans did not know how to stop him, the horse trotted faster and faster until at last he threw Hans into a ditch. The horse would have run off, but he was stopped by a man driving a cow.

”Riding is no joke,” said Hans as he crawled out of the ditch. ”Not on a beast that thinks nothing of kicking and leaping. How much better your cow is! One can walk quietly behind her, and she gives milk and butter and cheese every day. Oh, how I should like a cow!”
”Well,” said the man, ”since you wish it so much, I'll trade my cow for your horse.”
Hans agreed with joy. The man jumped onto the horse and was soon out of sight.

Hans drove the cow on, thinking what a good bargain he had made. ”If I have only bread, and my work will surely get me that, I shall have butter and cheese to eat when I am hungry. When I am thirsty, I can drink milk.”
By noon the heat grew great, and Hans became very thirsty. He was crossing an open field where no well or spring was in sight.
”Now is the time,” he said, ”for my cow to give me a good drink of milk.”
He tied the cow to a bush by the roadside and used his cap for a pail. But not a drop of milk could he get. And being a very awkward milker, the cow kicked him so hard he fell sprawling to the ground. As he sat there, a thought crossed his mind: he had traded his gold for a horse, then the horse for this cow. Was he making good choices?

Just then a butcher came along with a pig in a wheelbarrow.
”What on earth happened?” he asked, helping Hans to his feet.
Hans told him the whole story. The butcher laughed and said, ”That cow has no milk to give. She is old and only good for beef.”
”What a pity,” said Hans, scratching his head. ”Though she would make much meat, I care little for beef. I would prefer the meat of a fine fat pig like yours.”
”Then, Hans,” said the butcher, ”out of kindness, I'll give you my pig in exchange for your cow.”
Hans, still thinking about his trades, agreed. But as he walked on with the pig, he felt uneasy.

Soon he was joined by a boy carrying a goose under his arm.
”That pig might be stolen,” the boy warned. ”The men are looking for it. It would go badly for you if they found it in your hands. I'll help you-give me the pig and take my goose instead.”
Hans, worried about getting into trouble, agreed. The boy hurried off with the pig, and Hans went on with the goose under his arm. As he walked, he began to wonder if the boy's story was true, but it was too late to change his mind.

”When I think of it,” he said to himself, ”I have gained by the change. I have a fine goose to eat, goose fat to spread on my bread, and beautiful white feathers to stuff a pillow. How pleased my mother will be!”
But then he paused. His mother had been waiting for him for seven years. He had started with gold-gold that could have helped them both. Now he had only a goose. What had he done?
For the first time, he truly thought about his trades. Each one had seemed like a good idea, but each time he had given away something valuable. He felt a heavy weight in his chest.

At last he came to a village. Here he saw a knife-grinder turning his wheel. As he worked he sang:
”Old knives and scissors like new I grind,
And round whirs my wheel as swift as the wind.”
Hans stopped to watch. ”Your trade must be a good one,” he said, ”since you sing so while you work.”
”Indeed,” said the man. ”A good knife-grinder always finds money in his pocket. But tell me-where did you buy that fine goose?”
”I didn't buy it,” said Hans. ”I traded my pig for it.”
”Oh? And where did you get the pig?”
”I traded my cow.”
”And the cow?”
”I exchanged it for a horse.”
”And the horse?”
”I traded it for a lump of gold as big as my head.”
”And how did you get the gold?”
”It was my wages for seven years' work.”
The knife-grinder looked at Hans with concern. ”My friend,” he said gently, ”you have traded away seven years of work. That gold could have bought food for your family for many months, or helped your mother in so many ways. When you trade valuable things, you're trading away the opportunities they could provide.”

Hans paused. He had started with gold from seven years of work-gold that could have bought food, clothes, and helped his mother. Now he had only a goose.
”Become a knife-grinder like me,” the man offered. ”All you need is a grindstone. I'll take your goose for it. What do you say?”
Hans looked at the goose, then at the grindstone. He thought of his mother waiting for him, and how disappointed she would be if he came home with nothing. ”I... I don't know,” he said slowly. ”I've made so many trades today, and each one seemed like a good idea at the time. But now I realise I've been giving away the value of my hard work. Perhaps I should keep the goose and think more carefully.”
The knife-grinder smiled. ”That is wise thinking, young man. Money and valuable things represent your time and effort. Always think carefully before trading them away.”

Hans thanked the man and continued on his way with the goose. As he walked, he thought about all his trades that day. He realised he had been too hasty, too trusting of strangers who might not have been honest with him. The boy's story about the pig might not have been true at all-he should have asked more questions or thought it through. He hadn't thought about what his gold was really worth or what opportunities it could provide. The gold he had worked seven years to earn was gone, and he had only a goose to show for it.
At last he reached a spring and stopped to rest and drink. He set the goose down carefully and looked at it. ”You may not be gold,” he said to the goose, ”but you are something. And I have learned an important lesson today: I must think carefully about the true value of things and the opportunities they provide before I trade them away.”

When Hans reached his mother's cottage, he told her the whole story with a heavy heart.
”I'm sorry, Mother,” he said. ”I worked for seven years to earn that gold, and I wanted to help you with it. I should have thought about what it could really do for us before I traded it away.”
His mother listened patiently.
”My dear Hans, you have learned a valuable lesson. That gold represented seven years of your life: your time, your effort, your hard work. When you trade valuable things away without thinking, you're giving away opportunities. But you have gained something important: the wisdom to think carefully and plan ahead.”
Hans nodded. ”From now on, I will think about what things are truly worth, plan ahead for what we need, and be more careful about who I trust.”
His mother smiled.
”Remember, my son: while you may enjoy the things you see in front of you, always think carefully about whether you truly want to give them away.”
And so Hans began to understand that while he had lost his gold, he had gained something precious-the wisdom to value what he earns and to think carefully before making decisions.