Long ago, there was a king and his only son. The kingdom itself was not peaceful, not really. People said there were more snakes than humans, and it didn’t feel like an exaggeration. You could step out for the smallest thing and still feel uneasy, like something might be watching you from the ground or from a tree. The prince grew up seeing all this, and he didn’t like it one bit. So he started going into the forest almost every day, hunting snakes, trying to make things a little safer. It helped, but never fully.
One day, after spending hours in the forest, he lay down under a tree to rest. His guards stood nearby, alert as always. Nothing unusual at first. Then slowly, from above, a huge seven-hooded snake came down from the branch right over him. The guards reacted immediately, swords out, ready to kill it. But the prince stopped them. He noticed something… off. The snake didn’t look like it wanted to attack. It looked tired. Almost like it had been dealing with something for a long time.
Then it spoke. Said it was the king of the snakes. For seven years, it had been suffering from a terrible headache. Couldn’t move properly, couldn’t rule. And without a king, the snakes had just… spread out everywhere. That was why the kingdom was like this now. The prince listened. Didn’t rush, didn’t panic. Just listened, which, honestly, most people wouldn’t have done. Maybe that’s where kindness and compassion quietly start—when you don’t react the way everyone expects you to.
He asked what could be done. The serpent told him about a kingdom to the south. There was a princess there, very unusual. She weighed almost nothing, like seven jasmine flowers. She had never laughed. But if she ever did, three jasmine flowers would fall from her mouth. The prince had to bring the middle one. That was it. The serpent said if he could smell that flower, the pain would go away. And if that happened, no snake would trouble the prince’s people again.
So the prince left.
On the way, he stopped near a tank to drink water. While bending down, he saw something small—ants, a whole nest of them, struggling in the water. They were about to drown. He could have ignored it. Most people probably would. But he picked them up and placed them on dry ground. It wasn’t some big heroic thing. Just helping animals in a small way. Still, the ants didn’t take it lightly. Their king appeared and said they would help him if he ever needed it. The prince nodded and moved on.
A little further ahead, he came across something even stranger. A giant, lying on the ground, completely stuck. Turns out, while sleeping, a tamarind seed had fallen into his mouth. Over time, it had grown into a tree. Roots, branches, everything. The giant couldn’t move, couldn’t even get up. The prince got to work, cutting the tree and freeing him. Again, just helping others without asking for anything. The giant was grateful and said the same thing the ants had—call me if you need help. Funny how things like this happen. You don’t think much of it in the moment, but later it matters. That’s usually how helping others always pays off.
When the prince finally reached the other kingdom, he asked for the princess’s hand. The king didn’t refuse, but he didn’t agree right away either. He set three tasks. First one—separate huge piles of mixed rice and black gram before dawn. The prince was left alone in a room full of it. No real plan. Then he remembered the ants. They came. Thousands of them. By morning, everything was sorted.
Second task—eat a massive amount of food before sunrise. Impossible for one person. So he thought of the giant. The giant came, ate everything in just a few mouthfuls, and that was that.
Third task—ring a huge golden bell on a hill far away. Too big for anyone to even move. Once again, the giant showed up and rang it like it was nothing. The sound carried across the land.
After that, the king had no reason to refuse. The prince married the princess.
On the way back, they stopped somewhere to watch a small performance. Nothing grand. Just a few people doing tricks with monkeys. The princess watched quietly at first, then suddenly laughed. Just like that. And as she laughed, three jasmine flowers fell from her mouth. The prince noticed and quickly picked up the middle one.
When they reached the forest, he went straight to the serpent king. Gave him the flower. The serpent smelled it, and just like that, the headache was gone. Seven years of pain, gone in a moment. And he kept his word. After that, snakes stopped troubling the kingdom.
When the prince returned home, everything was different. People were no longer afraid to step outside. Life felt normal again. But what stayed with him wasn’t just the result. It was how everything had happened. The ants, the giant, even the serpent—every bit of help he received traced back to something he had done earlier. Nothing forced, nothing planned. Just small acts. Kindness to animals, helping others, doing what felt right at the time.
And that’s the thing. People say it all the time—kindness is always rewarded, kindness comes back to you, good deeds are rewarded. Sounds simple when you hear it like that. But in stories like this, you actually see it happen, step by step. Not loudly, not all at once. Just quietly working its way back.
If You Liked This Folk Tale…
If this story stayed with you—the quiet way kindness is always rewarded, and how even the smallest act can come back when you least expect it—you might enjoy another tale that looks at life from a slightly different angle. In this Gujarati story, the focus shifts from kindness to the balance between luck and effort, and how both shape the path we walk. It’s just as simple on the surface, but there’s a lot to sit with once you finish reading. You can explore it here.
Kalai is passionate about reading and reinterpreting folk tales from all over the country. Write to her at kalai.muse@gmail.com to know more about her.
Folk tale adapted and abridged from University of California Press.