The Boy Who Became a Giant's Servant
A lazy boy, a colossal giant, and a clever escape through a world of magic
Page 1
Once, in a quiet valley nestled between rolling green hills, lived a boy named Tom. Tom was a good-hearted lad, but he had a peculiar habit: he disliked work of any kind. From morning until night, he would find ways to avoid chores, much to the dismay of his hardworking mother. 'Tom,' she would sigh, 'if only you would find some useful task to do! We could certainly use your help around the cottage.' Tom, however, only dreamed of grand adventures, far away from digging potatoes or mending fences. One sunny morning, after a long talk with his mother about his future, Tom declared, 'Mother, I have heard tales of giants who live beyond these hills. They say giants need servants for mighty tasks. I will go and find a giant to serve! Surely, that will be more exciting than chores here.' His mother looked worried, but Tom was determined. He packed a small bundle and set off, hoping to find a master worthy of his ambition, or at least one whose tasks were more interesting than his mother's.
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Tom walked for many long days, his small legs growing tired with every step. The green hills of his home gave way to towering, ancient trees, their branches interlacing overhead like a dark, solemn roof. The path beneath his feet was winding and uneven, a narrow ribbon through the deep woods. He wondered if he had made a mistake leaving his cozy, if chore-filled, cottage. But then, just as doubt began to creep in, a break in the trees offered a glimpse of something truly enormous. There, far in the distance, rising above the forest canopy, stood a massive castle. Its stone walls were dark and imposing, its towers reaching like stony fingers towards the sky. 'It must be the giant's house!' Tom whispered to himself, a fresh burst of hope giving his weary legs new strength. He hurried on, his heart thumping with a mix of excitement and a little fear.
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Tom finally reached the castle and, with a deep breath, found his way inside. He soon stood in an enormous kitchen, so vast it was like a great hall. Everything was huge: pots the size of small carts, a hearth big enough to roast an ox, and tables made of whole tree trunks. Then he saw them: Grim, the Giant, a towering man with a scowling face and a shaggy beard, and his wife, Elara, who was also very tall. Tom, feeling very small, bowed politely. 'I have come to seek service,' he announced, trying to sound brave. The Giant looked down at him, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. 'A servant, eh? You're a tiny one. Can you do mighty tasks?' Tom nodded quickly. 'Fetch me water in that sieve,' boomed the Giant, pointing to a huge, worn sieve by the fire. Tom stared at the sieve, then at the Giant. This was a trick, he knew, but he had promised to serve.
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Tom took the giant's sieve and walked to the nearest village well, his brow furrowed in thought. How could anyone carry water in a sieve? As he reached the bustling well, where villagers gathered to fill their pitchers, he saw an old woman, Martha, drawing water. She had a simple clay pitcher, but it was cracked in many places. Instead of despairing, she calmly plugged the cracks with mud before filling it, carrying it away with ease. A sudden idea sparked in Tom's mind! 'Thank you, kind woman,' he whispered, though she hadn't heard him. He quickly gathered handfuls of wet clay and mud from around the well. He carefully plastered every hole in the giant's sieve, then dipped it into the cool, clear water. To his delight, the water stayed! He filled the sieve to the brim and, with a triumphant smile, hurried back to the castle.
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The Giant was impressed that Tom had managed the sieve. 'Now,' he boomed, 'your next task is to cut down this entire forest by sundown!' He gestured to a truly enormous, dense forest stretching for miles. Tom knew he couldn't possibly cut even one of the colossal trees, let alone the whole forest. But he had an idea. He walked into the woods, found a quiet spot, and lay down, pretending to be very ill. Soon, the Giant came to check on his progress. He found Tom groaning and clutching his stomach. 'Oh, master,' Tom moaned, 'I am so dreadfully ill! My insides ache, and I cannot lift an axe. It must be that giant food!' The Giant grumbled, for he hated illness and didn't want it to spread to him. 'Fine,' he sighed, 'I suppose I must do it myself!' And with mighty swings of his own axe, the Giant began to fell the enormous trees, one after another, clearing the forest as Tom watched, relieved.
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The Giant, having cleared the forest, set Tom his third task. 'Now, clean out the stable!' he ordered. 'It has not been cleaned in seven years, and the muck is piled to the rafters!' Tom peered into the stable, and indeed, it was a truly colossal mess. A mountain of dung reached almost to the high ceiling, making the air thick and unpleasant. He knew he couldn't shovel it out alone. So, Tom decided on another clever plan. He didn't touch the muck. Instead, he found a sturdy spade and began digging a narrow, deep channel from the stable door all the way to the outside, where a stream flowed past the castle walls. He worked tirelessly, creating a sloping trench. When the Giant came to check, he saw the ditch and grumbled. 'What are you doing, boy?' Tom explained his plan, and the Giant, seeing the wisdom in it, roared, 'Out of the way!' He then used his enormous strength to quickly finish the channel, guiding the stream's water into the stable. The flowing water quickly carried away the years of muck, leaving the stable sparkling clean.
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That evening, Tom overheard the Giant muttering to his wife, Grim. 'That boy is too clever by half,' the Giant growled. 'I don't trust him. I shall raise my axe towards his bed tonight, just to be rid of him!' Tom's heart pounded. He knew he had to escape. As the Giant slept, his wife, Elara, crept into Tom's small room. 'Quickly, Tom,' she whispered, her voice urgent. 'My husband means you no good. He is planning to raise his axe towards your bed tonight! You must flee now, while he sleeps. Take this purse of gold and this golden ball, for they will help you on your way.' Tom's eyes widened with terror. He quickly grabbed the small purse of gold and the shiny golden ball she offered. He thanked her profusely, then slipped silently into the dark, shadowy corridor, his small feet pattering softly as he fled the giant's castle.
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Tom ran all night. As morning light began to touch the sky, he heard the thunderous footsteps of the Giant behind him. Remembering the golden ball, he quickly threw it over his shoulder, crying, 'Golden ball, turn me into a church!' Instantly, Tom became a small, stone church, standing peacefully by the side of a quiet country lane. Moments later, the Giant came striding up the lane, looking furious. He saw the church, but no boy. Just then, a kindly priest, Father Michael, came out of the church. 'Good morning, Father,' bellowed the Giant. 'Have you seen a small boy pass this way?' The priest looked puzzled. 'No, my son,' he replied gently. 'I have been here all morning, and no boy has passed by, only myself.' The Giant grumbled, confused, and stomped off, continuing his search further down the lane.
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The Giant continued his chase, growing more and more furious. Just as he thought he saw Tom in the distance, Tom once again threw the golden ball over his shoulder, crying, 'Golden ball, turn me into a pond with ducks!' And instantly, he became a serene pond, with several ducks swimming peacefully upon its surface. The Giant soon arrived, bringing his huge hunting dog, Brutus, with him. 'Smell him out, Brutus!' he commanded. The dog sniffed around the banks, whimpering, but could find no trace of the boy. The Giant grumbled in frustration. Suddenly, the golden ball, which Tom had dropped near the pond's edge, began to speak in the Giant's wife's voice, 'You fool! The boy you seek is that pond, and those ducks are him! Only catch the big duck, and you'll have him!' The Giant stared, bewildered, unable to grasp the magic.
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The Giant heard this and understood he had been thoroughly outwitted. He roared in frustration, a sound that shook the very ground. But his fury was so great, and his pursuit so long, that his strength suddenly left him. Overwhelmed by sheer vexation and exhaustion, the huge giant simply collapsed where he stood, defeated and unable to move further. Tom, seeing his chance, raced away, the golden ball safely in his pocket and the purse of gold jingling. He ran all the way back to his mother's cottage, now a much wiser and wealthier boy. With the gold, he and his mother bought new land, built a finer home, and lived in comfort and happiness for all their days. And Tom, it is said, never found work boring again.
About this story
- Audience: kids (ages 6–12)
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