Hans in Luck a personalized book with your child as the hero

Once upon a time, a cheerful child named Hans had been visiting a kind family far from home. When the visit ended, the family wrapped a small lump of gold in a cloth and pressed it into Hans's hands. "This is a gift," they said. "Take it home with our love."

The gold was no bigger than a hen's egg, but it was surprisingly heavy. Hans tucked it into the canvas bag, then took it out again, then tucked it back. Heavy things, Hans decided, are hard to carry on a long road, though the sun was warm and the road was friendly.

Soon a traveller came clopping along, leading a gentle horse with a shining brown coat. "What a fine thing it must be to have a horse," Hans sighed. "Then there would be no heavy lump to carry."

"Is that so?" said the traveller with a smile. "Why, I will swap my horse for your gold." Hans agreed at once. But Hans did not climb up alone. Instead, the child took the lead rope and walked beside the horse, patting its warm neck. They went along together at a steady, happy pace, and the horse seemed to like the company.

By and by they came to a cottage with a whitewashed fence. Behind it stood a calm brown cow, chewing slowly and watching the world go by. The farmer leaned on the gate. "Fine horse," he said. "Fine cow," said Hans. "Milk would be lovely on a warm day." Before long the horse stood in the farmer's yard and Hans held a rope halter attached to the cow, and they ambled on down the road.

The day grew hotter. Hans dreamed of cool milk, but a cow does not give milk to someone who has never learned to ask. Hans patted the cow, found the pail empty, and sighed. Then, on a quiet lane lined with clover, a traveller appeared with a little pink pig trotting on a loose cord.

"What a cheerful pig," said Hans. "It would be easier to walk with a pig than a cow." The traveller agreed, and so the cow went one way and the pig went the other. The pig snuffled at the clover, curled its tail, and followed Hans down the lane as if they were old friends.

Next Hans met a villager carrying a white goose in a woven basket. The goose's head peeked out, bright-eyed and proud. "Plump and white," said the villager. "Her feathers would make a fine pillow, and she is no trouble at all." Hans looked at the pig, then at the goose, and the swap was made. The child carried the goose gently in the basket, humming a little tune as they went.

The afternoon was growing late when Hans came to a mill beside a rushing stream. A miller stood in the doorway with flour on his apron and a smile as wide as a barn door. Beside him sat a great round grindstone.

"A goose is a fine thing," said the miller. "But a grindstone is useful to every household. Take this one and you will never be without a task." Hans, who liked to be agreeable, nodded and handed over the goose. The miller rolled the stone to Hans's feet and added a second, smaller stone for good measure.

Hans lifted the stones. They were so heavy that the child's knees wobbled and the canvas bag slid down from one shoulder. Step by step, the stones seemed to grow heavier still. Hans puffed and panted and wondered how the day had gone from gold to this.

At last the road led into a small village, where an old stone well stood under a little roof, shaded by ferns. A grown-up was drawing water there and gave Hans a friendly nod. "Careful now," the grown-up said, and showed Hans how to rest the stones on the wide stone ledge while standing safely behind the wall. Hans let out a long, grateful breath. "Thank you," said the child. "I only wanted a drink."

But as Hans reached for the cup, one of the stones rocked, tipped, and slid straight off the ledge. Splash! It sank into the deep water, and a moment later the second stone followed it. The grown-up caught Hans's sleeve and kept the edge secure, and nobody leaned over the water at all.

Hans stood very still. Then a laugh bubbled up, and it grew and grew until it filled the whole village square. "Oh, how lucky I am!" Hans cried. "No gold, no horse, no cow, no pig, no goose, and no heavy stones. I have nothing to carry at all!"

The child thanked the well, thanked the helpful grown-up, and set off down the road at a run. The canvas bag bounced on one shoulder, the shoes tapped the dust, and the whole sky seemed to be smiling.

When the cottage came into view, the door flew open. Hans's family hurried down the garden path with open arms. "You are home!" they cried. "And what did you bring us?"

"Nothing at all," said Hans, laughing, hugged in the middle of the flowers. "I am the luckiest child in the world, because I got here to you."