The Golden Touch

Once upon a time in ancient Greece, there lived a wealthy king named Midas. His kingdom flourished under his rule, his palace glittered with riches, and he had everything he could possibly desire—except satisfaction.

King Midas loved one thing above all: gold. His eyes sparkled at the sight of it. He measured joy not in smiles or memories, but in the weight of treasure chests and the shine of his golden crown.

One morning, as he walked through his garden of roses, he stumbled upon a strange figure—a radiant old man, dressed in robes that shimmered with a light not of this world.

“I am a traveler,” the man said. “I grant one wish to those who know their heart’s deepest desire.”

Midas, without hesitation, exclaimed, “I wish for everything I touch to turn into gold!”

The man raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Not love, or health, or peace?”

Midas laughed. “I want gold. Nothing more.”

“Very well,” the man whispered. He waved his hand, and a warm glow passed through Midas.

The next morning, Midas awoke with excitement. He touched his bedpost—gold. The table—gold. The roses in his garden—golden statues.

He was ecstatic. His servants followed him, wide-eyed, as he transformed everything in sight. Word spread, and people whispered of the Golden King.

But his joy didn’t last.

At breakfast, he reached for a grape—it turned to gold. The bread, the meat, the wine—all useless golden replicas. He could not eat.

Frustrated, he called for his beloved daughter. She ran into his arms as always—but the moment he touched her, she froze, her smile disappearing, her skin hardening into lifeless, golden stillness.

Midas fell to his knees. The weight of his riches had never felt so crushing.

He cried out to the heavens, begging to undo his wish. “Take my gold! Take my throne! Give me back what truly matters!”

Suddenly, the old traveler reappeared.

“Have you learned what true wealth is?” he asked softly.

Midas nodded through tears. “It’s not in gold. It’s in love, in moments, in the warmth of a hug.”

With a gentle wave, the man reversed the curse. The golden touch was gone. His daughter returned to life, blinking, smiling.

Midas held her close, weeping with joy. He no longer counted coins—he counted blessings.

Moral of the Story:

Greed blinds us to life’s real treasures. True wealth lies not in gold, but in the hearts we love and the moments we cherish.