Jack and the Beanstalk - English

My name is Jack, and our cottage was so small that the smell of rain on the dusty road outside was the same as the smell inside. My mother and I had nothing left but our dear cow, Milky-White, whose ribs were beginning to show. One morning, with a heavy heart, my mother told me to take her to market, but the world had other plans for me, plans that would grow right up into the sky. This is the story of how a handful of beans changed everything; this is the story of Jack and the Beanstalk. On the way to market, I met a strange little man with twinkling eyes who held out his hand. In his palm were five beans, shimmering with an odd light. He offered me a trade I couldn't bring myself to refuse: these five beans he swore were magic for our Milky-White. My head swam with possibilities—magic! It felt like destiny, a spectacular chance to end our troubles for good. But when I returned home, clutching the beans, my mother’s hopeful face crumpled into a mask of despair. 'You foolish boy!' she cried. In her anger, she snatched the beans from my hand, threw them out the window into our barren garden, and sent me to bed without any supper. I fell asleep with my stomach rumbling, convinced I was the biggest fool in the entire world.

When I woke, the world outside my window was cast in a deep green shadow. A colossal beanstalk, with a trunk as thick as our cottage and leaves as big as blankets, had erupted from the ground where my mother had thrown the beans. It twisted up and up, a massive, living ladder that disappeared right into the base of the clouds. My foolishness from the night before evaporated, replaced by a surge of pure wonder and a tingling sense of courage. I had to know what was at the top. Without a second thought, I slipped outside and began to climb. I pulled myself up, hand over hand, the rough bark scraping my palms, the world below shrinking into a tiny patchwork of green and brown. The air grew thin and chilly, and birds circled below me. Finally, I pushed my head through a soft, damp layer of cloud and found myself in another land entirely. A long, straight road paved with white stones stretched before me, leading to a castle so enormous it seemed to be holding up the sky itself. Cautiously, I crept toward the massive oak door and knocked. The door creaked open, and a giantess, a woman as tall as an old oak tree, peered down at me. She was surprisingly kind and, seeing how hungry and tired I was, took pity on me. She ushered me inside, warning me to eat quickly and be gone before her husband, a fearsome, man-eating giant, returned home.

Suddenly, the entire castle began to tremble with thunderous footsteps that shook the very dishes on the table. 'Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman!' the giant roared, his voice like a rockslide, as he stomped into the great hall. The giantess, her face pale with fear, quickly shoved me into the cool darkness of the oven just as her husband entered. From a crack in the oven door, I watched the monstrous giant devour his supper and then command his servants to bring him his treasures. He emptied bags of gold coins onto the table, counting them until his head began to nod and he fell into a deep, snoring sleep. Seizing my chance, I slipped out of the oven, grabbed a heavy bag of gold, and scrambled back to the beanstalk as fast as my legs could carry me. The gold kept my mother and me comfortable for a while, but our need was great, and soon it was gone. Driven by a mix of desperation and a newfound thirst for adventure, I climbed the beanstalk again. This time, I hid myself in a cupboard and watched the giant command his magical hen to lay a perfect, solid gold egg. As soon as he was asleep, I snatched the hen and made my escape. The third time, however, was nearly my last. I was drawn by the sound of beautiful music and saw the giant's most prized possession: a small golden harp that played melodies all by itself. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. But as I grabbed it, the harp cried out in a clear voice, 'Master, master!' The giant awoke with a furious roar and lunged for me. I fled, his booming footsteps shaking the very clouds behind me.

I scrambled down the beanstalk faster than I ever had before, the giant's huge, grasping hands reaching for me from above. The leaves whipped past my face, and the wind roared in my ears. 'Mother, the axe!' I yelled as my feet finally touched the familiar soil of our garden. 'Quick, the axe!' My mother, her face white with terror as she saw the enormous giant beginning his descent, rushed to fetch it from the woodshed. I grabbed the axe, its weight feeling solid and real in my trembling hands, and swung with all my might. I chopped and chopped at the thick, green stalk, sending huge chips flying. With a mighty, groaning crack, the beanstalk swayed violently and then came crashing down, bringing the roaring giant with it. The ground shook with a deafening impact, and that was the end of the giant. We never had to worry about money or food again. The hen provided us with a golden egg each day, and the magical harp filled our little cottage with the sweetest music. I had faced a giant and won, not just with brute strength, but with quick thinking, daring, and a whole lot of courage.

My story, which was first told around firesides in England centuries ago, is more than just a thrilling adventure. It's a tale about seeing opportunity where others see only foolishness, and about being brave enough to climb toward the unknown, even when you're afraid. It reminds us that even the smallest person can overcome the biggest challenges with a little bit of wit and a great deal of courage. Today, the story of Jack and the Beanstalk continues to grow in books, movies, and plays, inspiring people all over the world to dream big and take a chance when it appears. It teaches us that sometimes, the greatest treasures and the grandest adventures are found when you're brave enough to climb.