Godai the jackal was very poor, but soft of heart. One rainy dusk — pit-pat, pit-pat — a wet goose named Sonai turned up at his door. “Come in, dry yourself,” said Godai.
Next dawn, something glinted in the straw nest — a golden egg! “Oh my, real gold!” Sonai smiled, “A gift for your kindness, friend.” After that, one golden egg every single morning.
Godai bought this and that, fixed up his house. But the neighbour's big mansion set his heart itching. “Just one egg a day? Ugh, far too slow!” His eyes glinted with greed.
In his head Godai hatched a plan — “Sonai must be stuffed full of gold! Take it all at once and I'll be the richest in the village!” His chest thumped, his paws itched with greed.
That night Godai rushed at the nest — “All the gold, right now!” In fright Sonai beat her wings, honking honk-honk — “Godai, what are you doing!”
Sonai spread her wings and flew off across the canal. “Come back, Sonai! Come back!” — Godai cried, running to the water's edge. But Sonai never looked back; she faded far… far away. In the empty nest lay only straw — the golden eggs never came again.
From that day on, Godai was never greedy again. Even now, the empty nest makes his chest ache — for it was greed's own hand that lost him both the golden eggs and his friend. With what little he has he's now content — a lesson bought at a heavy price.