Once upon a time, in a sunny little village surrounded by rolling hills, there lived a kind girl named Mia. Mia loved helping her neighbors and always had a big smile for everyone she met. One day, while walking through the forest to gather berries, she came across an old woman sitting on a fallen tree. The woman wore a tattered shawl, but her face glowed with kindness.

“Hello, dear,” said the old woman. “You seem like someone with a heart full of goodness. I have a gift for you.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a small pot.

Mia tilted her head, curious. “A pot?”

“Not just any pot,” the woman explained with a twinkle in her eye. “This is a magic porridge pot. When you’re hungry, simply say, ‘Cook, little pot, cook!’ and it will fill with delicious porridge. But when you’ve had enough, don’t forget to say, ‘Stop, little pot, stop!’”

Mia’s eyes lit up. “Thank you! That’s amazing!” She hugged the old woman and skipped home, eager to show her mother.

That evening, Mia’s family tried out the pot. “Cook, little pot, cook!” Mia said, and the pot bubbled and steamed until it was full to the brim with warm, creamy porridge. They ate until they were stuffed, and Mia proudly said, “Stop, little pot, stop!” The pot obediently stopped cooking. From then on, Mia and her family never went hungry, sharing porridge with neighbors and anyone in need.

But one day, something very silly happened. Mia’s mother was home alone while Mia was out helping Mrs. Brown with her chickens. Feeling a bit peckish, her mother decided to use the pot for lunch. “Cook, little pot, cook!” she commanded. The pot began bubbling merrily, and soon it was full of porridge.

Her mother took a bowl and said, “Stop, little pot, stop!” But the pot didn’t stop. It kept cooking and bubbling, and more porridge spilled over the sides. “Stop! STOP, little pot, STOP!” she cried, waving her arms. But the pot didn’t listen—it just kept cooking! Soon, porridge began to spill onto the floor, then out the door, and into the street.

The villagers looked up to see porridge flowing like a river through the town. “What is going on?!” they shouted as they scrambled to keep their shoes dry. Some tried scooping porridge into buckets, while others used spoons and bowls to eat their way out of the mess, laughing at the silliness of the situation.

Mia returned home to find porridge everywhere—on the floors, in the flowerbeds, even dripping from the lampposts! “Oh no!” she gasped. She ran to the pot and calmly said, “Stop, little pot, stop!” At once, the pot stopped bubbling, and the porridge river came to an end.

Mia’s mother looked sheepish. “I may have forgotten the magic words,” she admitted.

Mia giggled and hugged her. “It’s okay, Mom. At least the whole village won’t be hungry tonight!” Everyone cleaned up the porridge, and the villagers enjoyed bowls of warm porridge together, laughing about the porridge flood for weeks to come.

From that day on, Mia made sure to remind everyone of the magic words: “Cook, little pot, cook!” and “Stop, little pot, stop!” And they all learned that even magic needs a little bit of care.

Always remember: Saying the right words can make a big difference!