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The Magic Pot

The Magic Pot
Once upon a time, in a small, humble village, lived a kind and poor old woman. She had very little food, and often, she went to bed hungry. Despite her hardships, she always shared what little she had with others, a testament to her good heart.
One cold winter’s day, as the old woman walked through the forest, shivering and feeling faint from hunger, she stumbled upon something peculiar. Half-buried in the snow, near the roots of an ancient oak tree, was a small, plain-looking clay pot. She picked it up, thinking it might be useful for carrying berries, though there were none in sight.
As she held the pot, a faint, comforting warmth spread through her hands. Suddenly, a tiny, almost invisible voice whispered, “Cook, little pot, cook!”
The old woman, startled, looked around, but saw no one. Thinking it was her imagination, she sighed and continued on her way. But the warmth from the pot persisted. When she arrived back at her empty cottage, she decided to try the words she thought she had heard.
“Cook, little pot, cook!” she said, placing the pot on her humble table.
To her utter astonishment, the pot immediately began to bubble and steam. Within moments, it was overflowing with the most delicious, warm, and creamy porridge she had ever seen! The aroma filled her tiny cottage, making her stomach rumble with joy.
“Stop, little pot, stop!” she remembered to say, just as the porridge reached the brim. And instantly, the pot ceased cooking.
The old woman ate the most wonderful meal of her life. She ate until she was full and content, something that hadn’t happened in a very long time. From that day forward, she never went hungry. She could always command the magic pot to cook, and she always remembered to tell it to stop. She shared her abundant porridge with her neighbors, who were also often hungry, and soon the entire village was well-fed and happy.
One day, the old woman had to go visit a neighboring village. Before she left, she told her curious daughter, “Remember, my dear, if you use the pot, you must always say, ‘Cook, little pot, cook!’ to start it, and ‘Stop, little pot, stop!’ to make it cease.”
Her daughter, excited by the secret of the pot and eager to try it, decided to make some porridge. She put the pot on the table and loudly declared, “Cook, little pot, cook!”
Immediately, the pot began to cook the delicious porridge. It bubbled and filled the pot to the brim. The daughter ate a bowl, then another. It was so good! But in her excitement, she forgot the magic words to make it stop.
“Stop! Stop!” she cried, but the pot kept cooking. “Please stop!” she pleaded, but the porridge kept flowing, spilling over the edges of the pot, onto the table, and then onto the floor.
The porridge poured out of the cottage, down the lane, and began to fill the entire village street! People came out of their houses, bewildered, wading through the warm, sweet porridge. They tried to scoop it up, but there was too much.
Just then, the old woman returned. She saw the river of porridge flowing through her village and quickly understood what had happened. She rushed to her cottage, waded through the delicious mess, and calmly said, “Stop, little pot, stop!”
Instantly, the pot stopped cooking.
The villagers had to eat their way through the porridge to get back to their homes, but though it was a messy adventure, no one in the village went hungry for many days. From then on, the daughter always remembered the importance of knowing when to stop, and the magic pot continued to bring joy and abundance to the village, always used with care.
Moral of the Story: Knowing when to stop is as important as knowing when to start. Even good things can become too much if not managed properly.