Princess Poppy lived in a magnificent castle, filled with shimmering silks and sparkling jewels. But Poppy wasn’t happy. She complained about *everything*. Her breakfast was too warm, her dresses too itchy, and her bed… oh, her bed was the worst! It was stuffed with the finest goose feathers, but Poppy always said she could feel a tiny lump, a single pebble, or even a minuscule pea underneath. Her royal parents tried everything to make her comfortable.
One day, a traveling storyteller arrived at the castle. He heard about Princess Poppy’s troubles and asked if he could try to help. The King and Queen, desperate for a solution, agreed. The storyteller didn’t bring fancy pillows or soft blankets. Instead, he brought a small, wooden box.
“Your Majesty,” he said, “I believe Princess Poppy isn’t troubled by her bed, but by her heart. May I ask her to spend an hour each day helping others in the kingdom?” The King and Queen, puzzled, nodded their agreement. Poppy, however, grumbled. Helping others? That sounded terribly inconvenient!
The next day, Poppy was assigned to help Old Man Tiber, the castle gardener. He was struggling to carry heavy bags of soil. Poppy, used to being waited on, hesitated. But Old Man Tiber smiled kindly and said, “Even a little help is a great kindness, Princess.” Poppy reluctantly helped, and to her surprise, it didn’t feel so bad. In fact, it felt… good.
Each day, Poppy helped someone new. She read stories to the children in the village, mended clothes for the seamstress, and even helped the cook stir the soup. With each act of kindness, Poppy felt a warmth spread through her chest. She started to notice the smiles on people’s faces, and the gratitude in their eyes.
One evening, Poppy returned to her room, tired but strangely content. She climbed into her bed, the one with the ‘lumpy’ mattress. But this time, she didn’t feel a thing! The feathers felt soft and fluffy, and she sank into a peaceful slumber. She realized the storyteller was right.
The next morning, Poppy ran to find the storyteller. “I understand now!” she exclaimed. “It wasn’t the bed that was uncomfortable, it was my heart. When I was focused on myself and my complaints, everything felt wrong. But when I focused on helping others, I found true comfort.”
The storyteller smiled. “True comfort, Princess Poppy, comes not from what you *have*, but from what you *give*. A kind heart makes the softest bed of all.” Poppy continued to help others throughout her life, and she never complained about her bed again. She learned that the greatest treasures aren’t found in castles or jewels, but in the joy of making others happy. And every night, she slept soundly, dreaming of kindness and contentment.