People knew about the village of Daleko, thought it got neither attractions nor crossroads. It was just a small sleepy place, half a day horse ride from the nearest town of Gorod. There was a church, a school and only one paved street. The village was known because of a healer who lived there; a girl who was born with a gift of healing animals and rising plants. People from all over came to her with their sick and injured pets, which she brought back to life; farmers shared their concern about poor or falling crops, which she saved and made grow viciously with just a few tricks. She never asked anything for her work, but nonetheless people brought her gifts and little money which was enough for her to live. Her name was Vani.
The girl lived in a small house, surrounded by a colorful garden, on the outskirts of the village. She lived by herself, but not alone. She had three dogs: two black and one red; a grey cat; and bunnies.
Neighbors adored her though they were concerned about her way of living, not quite appropriate for a girl who already turned twenty. Yuson, who was the village’s matchmaker and lived just a few houses down the road from Vani, visited her every week and preached the same thing.
“Listen to me, young lady,” She said as she made herself comfortable at the table and took a cup Vani offered. “You are young, kind, and quite beautiful! Any man would be happy to have you as his wife. I will tell you even more,” She leaned toward Vani and continued in a low voice. “You can find one without my help. But,” She moved back into the chair. “I know my trade. ” She took a sip of tea “I will find you the best man ever. I will find you a good looking young man or… if you prefer, I will find you someone who is not that young or not that good looking, but prosperous. Just, do not to sit around too long and let me take care of this matter.”
Vani shyly smiled in reply. “Oh, no. Thank you, though. I have my hands full without a husband!” She looked outside, over her garden, bright green vegetable and colorful flower beds, and patted a Sheppard’s dog, a patient of hers, which was sleeping at her feet. “Also, I feel that this is exactly what I am supposed to do. This is God’s plan for me.”
She never refused help anyone. Every time people brought her an injured animal, a goat with a broken leg or a hunting dog, torn by a wild boar, she attended them with as much love and care as if they were her own.
So, when Maurice, another neighbor of hers, the best shoemaker in the village, brought her an injured baby deer, it was no surprise to her.
“I found it on the way back home from the forest.” He carefully put the animal on the bench. “Poor thing, I thought. Wasn’t even sure it was still alive.” He wiped off the sweat from his wide forehead.
The girl leaned over the deer. It got a deep tear on its shoulder blade, covered with pine needles and dried blood.
“I thought that if it had a chance, you were the only one who could help.” Maurice looked away as Vani was examining the wound carefully.
“An old one.” She mumbled to herself. “The poor thing was there for a while.” She got up and looked at the shoemaker. “Thank you. Thank you for bringing him here!”
He took off his hat. “I will go, then.”
“Go, go. Your wife and kids are probably looking for you by now.”
When she was left alone, she lit a candle by the altar, kneeled by the animal, which was barely breathing, and started praying. It wasn’t a usual prayer; it was rather an ancient chant, which she repeated in different languages. While chanting, she ran her fingers along the deer’s gracious head, placed her hands, palms down, on its side and pressed them against the animal’s ribs. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She paused; made a short breath, paused, listened to the deer, took a short breath, paused. She repeated it until she caught the rhythm and was breathing in sync with the animal. She did so for a few minutes. Then, she opened her eyes.
“I got it, now.” She smiled. “We need some buckwheat honey and white clay to feel better, don’t we?” She tickled behind deer’s ears. “You are going to be just fine, babe.”
Two weeks later, at about noon time, Maurice heard a knock on his door. He put shoes he was working on aside and went to open. At the threshold, he saw Vani who was holding a gracious deer on a leash.
“Good day to you.” She smiled. “Ready to take your finding back there it belongs?”
And so, she lived her life helping and mending all live beings.
* * *
Once a year, a big fair was held in a nearby town of Gorod. Hundreds of people came over there for a day of fun buying, looking for a special something or just getting together with friends. Vani woke up at the crack of dawn, got there early and spent hours walking between the stalls, looking for little treasures for her garden and ointments and herbs for her four-legged patients. As she started to slowly walk back home, she heard someone calling her name. She turned and recognized Mirav, a friend of hers she hasn’t seen for years.
“Gosh, I am so glad to see you!” They hugged.
Mirav stepped back and walked around Vani a few times.
“Long time, no see, ah? But, you didn’t change that much. Maybe, got a bit skinnier, but that’s about it.”
“And you look so… sophisticated and so…” Vani was lost for words to describe the rich red and gold outfit of her friend, dangling jewelry, and her round shapes. “…womanly.”
Mirav smiled. “I am on the way to a tea house to see the ladies. Remember Eva, and Nomi, and Reba? We get together pretty often. Our kids are about the same age and all that, you know. Anyway, let’s go there together. For the good old times’ sake! Everyone will be so happy to see you!”
Vani looked at the bags she was to carry and thought of the long way home, but agreed. “All right. I haven’t seen you, girls, for a while and a good cup of tea and a good chat seem like a plan.”
At the tea house, she took her place among her childhood friends. She listened to them chatting about their lives: husbands, households, kids, servants and mutual accountancies who weren’t’ there.
“So, what about you, dear?” Mirav turned to Vani.
“Me?” She set her cup on the table. “My life didn’t change as much as yours, girls. I live in the same village, in the same house.”
“What about your husband? Kids?”
“No, got none.” She put a spoon of sugar into her cup.
“What? You are not married yet?” Her friends gasped in disbelieve. “No husband? Do you live by yourself?”
Vani nodded.
“But..” Mirav leaned toward her. “How do you survive? How do you make your living?” She reached for her cup.
“Oh, I am a healer. I treat animals.” Vani took a bite of cookie. “And plants, too. They do need a healer sometimes, you know.” She smiled.
Mirav’s hand stopped half the way to her mouth. “You do what? You treat animals and… plants?” She laughed.
“Yes.” Vani wiggled on her chair.
“And what plant is the most difficult to treat?” Mirav smirked. “Cactus, probably?” She looked at her girlfriends and all of them burst out laughing.
“No, no, no, dear. What’s good do you get out of it?” Nomi, the oldest of them all, reached out and touched Vani’s hand when laughter ceased. “You need to get yourself a husband. Someone, who will take care of you, who will give you a nice home and comfortable living so you don’t have to deal with those sick animals ever again!”
“But, I love those sick animals! I like what I do!”
“Don’t be silly!” Mirav set her cup on the table. “But, I like it!” She mimicked Vani’s voice. “Get yourself a husband, girl.” She got out a little mirror and examined her face. “Anyway,” she readjusted her earrings. “You heal and do all of those God’s work, which is nice, but you need to have plan “B”, so to say, which is…” She put the mirror back. “…getting yourself a husband. Just think, what will happen to you, if you cannot heal anymore? Who will take care of you? Your people? No! They will leave you. Stop thinking of others and think of yourself, first.”
“But, I believe it’s wrong.” Vani set her cup on the table. “I will always help when my help is needed. I cannot say: “Sorry, I am busy.”, when there is an innocent animal, imagine a baby sheep, who is suffering. I just cannot. And, Mirav, think of it: even if something bad happen to me, people will not leave me. What goes around comes around, you know that.”
“Really?” She laughed. “You are silly. As long as you are of any use to all those farmers and sheppards, yes, you are right, but if not…” She rolled her eyes. “Let’s say, tomorrow, you get sick. Do you know what they will do? They will turn their backs to you. I guarantee you that. I know of someone whom it happened to exactly like that. Remember Anuk?”
Vani didn’t say anything.
“The thing is: as long as you can heal, you are all right, but what if one day you fail?”
“But I have always healed! Since I was a girl, I could do that. I am a healer.”
“Are you?” Nomi took a sip of tea. “I didn’t know you got a diploma.” She starred at her. “Did you?”
Vani looked away. “No. I did not.”
“That is my point exactly.”
“But…” Vani swallowed. “But, I don’t need a diploma to heal. I just know how.”
“Really? Oh, that’s truly amazing, then. Most people do need to learn that skill. Don’t you agree with me, ladies?” Everyone nodded. “Yes, you do.”
“But, I know, I know that this is what I am supposed to do.” Vani starred at the faces of her friends. “That’s God’s plan for me.”
“Really?”
Vani looked down at her hands, resting on her knees.
“Yes.”
“What, God himself told you that? Got a written contract from him or something?”
Vani set her cup on the edge of the table. She got up. “I think, it’s time for me to go.”
* * *
She got home at dusk. On the way, she kept going over the conversation at the tea house.
“Maybe they are right? Maybe this is what I have to do. Forget about healing; get married. Go to tea house. Chat. Gossip.”
When she got home, she went straight to bed. She slept poorly, though. She turned from side to side; she shivered and covered herself into a blanket like a cocoon; then, she felt sweaty, pushed the covers away and grasped for air; she woke up and fell back into a shallow sleep right away. In her dreams, she was chased by a tea cup. “How do you know you are a healer?” It said. “God’s plan?.” The cup smiled. “Really?”
Next day, Vani noticed some of her plants not looking that good.
“That is awkward.” She walked between the flowerbeds. “Hm.” She kneeled on the ground and looked at the dying flowers and thinning stems. “That is so awkward. I better water them again. And, maybe… Maybe, burn some alder over it, too. Or…” She paused. “Is it birch I need to burn?”
But the next day the plants got even worse.
“Hm, so maybe, it had to be alder?” Vani looked lost as she was starring over her garden. “But why did I think birch, then?” She went inside a little shack, which she used as a library and storage for the most unusual ingredients she used in healing. She picked out a thick worn out notebook from a dusty shelf and started to look through it carefully.
“Alder, alder.” She whispered. Finally, she found what she was looking for. She sat down in a chair by the window and started to read, slowly moving her finger along the lines. “No?” She paused. “Birch, birch.” She mumbled as she was looking through the parchment like sheets. “ No. Not birch either.” She closed the book. “But… what is it, then?” She starred into the floor for a few minutes, then she put the book away, got out measuring cups, mixing bowls, a few jars, placed it all on a table in the middle of the room, and started to make her special mix of earth, ashes and egg shells, “miracle” plant food which used to bring them back to life. When she was done, she went outside and spread it over the planting beds.
”Will see.”
The next morning, she came over to her garden. As she entered, her shoulders dropped, her arms fell still along her body.
“What have I missed now?” She slowly walked toward the shed.
“Seems like you are losing your green thumb.” Yuson yelled across the fence.
Vani turned around. “Seems like it.” She sighted.
“By the way,” the girl saw the matchmaker’s husband, a short man, whose face was barely seen from behind the fence.
“Our horse, brown with white spots, the one you attended last week, does not seem to get any better.”
The girl went pale.
“Are you all right?” He sounded concern. “You look like you might need to see a doctor yourself.”
Puzzled, Vani stumbled toward the house.
A knock on her door woke her up the next day. Still half asleep, she got up, rashly dressed, knocked down a little stool on the way to the door.
“Who’s there?” She asked.
“My dog, my dog was attacked by a wolf! Help, please, help!”
She opened a door and saw Albert, a teenage boy, son of the local Shepard, standing at the threshold. He was holding his dog. One glance at the animal was enough for the sleep to be gone: its brown with white sport fluffy body was dripping blood from a deep wound on its side, half of its left ear was missing, fur was torn out with skin.
“Bring it, bring it in!” Vani stepped aside letting the boy pass. “Good, good, put it here, yes, right here on that bench. Don’t stand like that. Get that bucket of water and run to the well.”
When she was left alone, she sat down at the floor next to the dog. She looked at the wound, deep hole of the missing piece of flash, and her hands started shacking. “No, I cannot. I cannot fix that!”
It seemed as the dog understood what she just said. It turned its face toward her, looked at her, and its head dropped on the bench, eyes shut.
“No, no, do not die yet!” Vani looked at the altar in the corner. The look of her guardian angel seemed empty, its eyes were starring invert. “Do not leave me! Not now.” She pleaded to it.
The boy came back in and put the bucket on the floor. “Will he live?”
Vani closed her eyes.
“I don’t know.” She kept silent for a few minutes, looked up at the boy and got up. “What is his name?”
“Woofka.”
“Woofka.” She whispered and ran her fingers along the dog’s side. “Albert, you will have to assist me. Agreed?”
He readily nodded.
“Give me that bottle and a piece of cloth from over there.” She rinsed her hands, opened the bottle the boy gave her and poured some liquid with a very strong smell on the cloth until it was soaked with it. “Ready?” He nodded. “Hold your dog, it’s going to hurt.”
Albert held the dog tight, whispering kindly in his ears, while Vani was cleaning the wound, cutting the dead flash off, wiping off blood. Sun was already high, when she finally covered the cut with a piece of goose-grass and cloth and wrapped a bandage around Woofka’s body. She wiped the sweat off her forehead, sunk onto the floor, her back against the wall, and closed her eyes. “So, how did you like it? To be a healer?” She asked the boy.
“I did not.” He sat down and leaned against the bench.
Vani felt dizzy. “Stay here, will you?” She looked at the boy. “I need to go somewhere. Will be back soon.”
She got up, rinsed her hands in a little sink, wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and went out of the house.
She went across the village to a little white house, barely seen from beyond evergreen ivy. She has never been here before, but she knew of Maruchi, a wise woman, whom people turned to at the time of difficulties. Just like Vani healed injured animals, Maruchi was able to heal human souls.
The girl was about to knock on the door, when a woman dressed in a long colorful dress, with heavy bracelets of her hands, and a mess of long brown curly hair, opened it.
“Come on, come on in.” Maruchi greeted her. “I was waiting for you.”
The girl stepped in into a dark room lit by candle light and full of smoke from the burning incenses.
“So, and you found your way here, too.” The woman said and sat down with her legs crossed on a pillow on the floor.
“I did.”
“Don’t be afraid.” The woman starred into a ball full of water in front of her. “I am not a witch. Thought, I might look like one.” She smiled.
“I know, you are not a witch.”
“Sit down, please.” She pointed on a pillow next to her. “Sit down and tell me all about it.”
“Thank you.” Vani sat down. “Gosh, I don’t know where to start.”
Maruchi touched her hand. “Anywhere is good enough.”
"I don’t know… It’s like… It’s like… You know that I can… could heal, right?” The woman nodded. “I cannot anymore. You know, like I used before.”
“Go on.”
“I believe, something happened to me at the market place last Sunday. Something that changed me. I just, don’t know what it was and why. I ran into some of my friends…” She talked for a while, described what happened that day in the tea house. Maruchi listened to her, smiled and nodded once in a while. “That is all. Since then, I cannot heal. I think so much about it. I try to remember how I did it and I cannot. My memory draws blank. It paralyzes me, my hands, my mind and then, I get a glimpse of what it felt like, when I could heal and I rush into doing it before the memory is gone and I fail. Do you know why? What happened?” She looked at the woman.
“I know. Unfortunately, I know.”
She dropped black powder in the ball and heavy white smoke rose in the air, hiding the woman from Vani’s sight.
“It’s not the tea that you drunk there. It was a poison. Poison made of gossip, fear, and jealousy. You were poisoned, your mind was poisoned and you lost your faith. Your faith in the righteous of what you were doing. Your questioned your abilities, your purpose, you compared your life with the life of others and started to hesitate of whatever you were living for was the right thing.”
“Poison?” Vani starred into the white smoke rising. “We just… talked.”
“Gossip and fear can be hidden as an innocent chat, but it doesn’t keep it from poisoning, nonetheless.”
Vani looked at her hands, at her palms, uselessly resting on her knees. “What am I to do now?”
“Lost faith is very hard to restore.
“Just tell me what am I to do and I will!”
Maruchi starred at the girl, looked up.
“Hold this.” She placed something, which felt like a small ball, in Vani’s hands. “Do not look. Just hold it very tight and pray to whoever you pray to. I will pray with you.”
As the girl was sitting there, chanting, the room seemed to disappear into the dim candle light and smoke, her heart stopped racing, her breathing slow down; she became calm. She kept on chanting, rolling the little ball in between her palms. She heard Maruchi’s voice next to her; she listened to the duet of two prayers blending into one. Vani’s mind cleared and she felt warmth of confidence and assertiveness waking up within her. She felt humble tears streaming down her face. She felt receiving back the faith she lost.
“Wake up, wake up.” Someone shook her by the shoulder.
“Ah?” The girl opened her eyes. She was sitting on the floor with her back against the wall.
Albert was standing in front of her. “He woke up, he woke up!” He pointed at the dog.
“Shh, quiet.” Vani sat down next to the dog, who licked her hand with its pink tongue. She kissed its head, drag her hand along its back, all the way to the tail, which moved happily. The girl held Woofka’s head in the palms of her hands, tickled carefully behind the dog’s ears. “He needs rest.” She looked at the boy. “Go home, I will stay with him.”
The boy hesitated.
“Go, there is nothing to worry about. He will be just fine.” Albert left.
Vani looked at the dog, resting its head on her knees, at her hands and at the altar in the corner.
She carefully got up and mended her skirt. She felt something in her pocket. She reached in. It was a little black ball. A lava ball. She rolled it in between the tips of her fingers, starred into its rough black surface.
Vani held it tight, so it became warm. “This is a lava ball.” She said and put it back into her pocket.
She smiled and gazed at the sleeping dog. “This is Woofka, a dog.”
She put her hand on her chest. “This is me, a healer.”
[+/-] show/hide this post
Fire was cheerfully dancing in the fire place, logs were cracking, snowflakes, big and fluffy, were slowly soaring down, landing on a windowsill outside. Children were sitting on the floor around a chair that an old woman, tail of grey hair wrapped around her head, glasses on the tip of her nose, was sitting in. A dozen of curious eyes were starring at her. The storyteller.
Once upon a time, in the part of the world you, my dear, never heard of, there was a country. Among the common folk, it was called Hardland, for its cracked and fruitless earth. Years and years ago, as the elders told, it was a peaceful and graceful place; its winters were white and cool, but not too cold, its summers were bright and warm, but not too hot, and its harvests at fall were plentiful. But then, as the story went, an horde from the East invaded the land. Man put the plows away, put on armors and went to defend their land and families. Many died at the battle fields, many went back home crippled. And so, war after war, one poor harvest after another, winters, which became cold, long and snowless, and summers, which turned into dry and sizzling hot, exhausted the land. Life was hard in Hardland, indeed.
Miles away from Hardland, there was another country, wealthy and prosperous, called Richland for its black and fertile soil. Its people ate a lot, slept long, worked a bit, and sang songs on Sunday mornings. Life was wonderful all around. People felt blessed in every single way except for one. Just like everybody else, they had to be responsible for their actions. That, they didn’t like, at all. How could someone, as special as they were, be guilty of anything? Or, even worse, to be punished for it?
So, The Great Council Of The Elders held its Supreme Assembly to figure out a way to correct this awful injustice. In the early afternoon, they locked themselves in a big court room, put “Do Not Disturb” sign on the big carved wooden doors and got into thinking. When shadows got longer, moon rose at the horizon, and a service boy lightened torches on the walls, the Head of the Council got up from his chair.
“And what if we find someone we could blame everything upon?”
“What a brilliant thought!” The rest of them exclaimed. “But there can we possibly find people who would ever agree to play a part in such a ridiculous thing?! Surely, no one of us, will ever fall for it.”
Again, the wise man pursed their lips and crossed their arms. For a while, a gloomy look crossed their faces, until someone said. “And what about that country… whatever its name is? Hardland or something? The one struggling at war? People there, will do anything to get out, won’t they?”
“Of course!” The others jumped with joy. “Let’s go there! Let’s give it a try and see what happens.”
They packed their trunks full with all sorts of tokens, and headed East. After many days, they finally got to Hardland, where they were greeted with flowers, music and an air of suspicion. But soon, the attitude toward the newcomers, who smiled and gave away presents, changed. The locals listened to those people, no doubt, sent by God himself, with awe. They couldn’t believe their ears when those angels from flesh and blood asked if someone would like to go with them to their prosperous land.
Dozens of hands jumped in the air. “I, I want to go!” Was heard from all over.
The newcomers smiled and winked at each other.
“Great, my dear friends.” They said. “There is only one thing you need to do.” A silence fell over the crowd. “To sign a tiny piece of paper, that’s it. Just a silly formality, nothing more than that.” Outcries of joy followed the air of relief.
Many agreed and, full of excitement and wonder, followed the strangers. For a while, the ones left behind waited for the news from their countryman until they finally gave in. “They must be so happy over there that forgot all about us, here.” They speculated.
Many years passed by.
In the very heart of Hardland, there was Little Girl. She lived with her parents in a tiny house, lost in the fields of golden wheat and green pastures. The girl was goodhearted and bright. She went to school to a nearby village, helped her mother around the household and her dad around the little garden the family got. Her parents couldn’t stop smiling looking at the little one, standing on her toes doing the dishes, watering flowers, a watering pot almost as big as she was, singing with a cheerful and clear voice.
"I wish so much, life would be easy on her.” Her mother whispered every time she saw her daughter walking to school, a big rucksack on her back and two pigtails sticking out on the sides of her head.
Once, a couple of foreigners, who were on their way to the city, knocked on the family’s front door. They asked for a glass of water. The two looked tired, their shoes were all covered with dust and they had quite a way to go, still.
“The sun is at its highest.” Mother sad, looking out of the window. “Why don’t you wait here a bit? Stay for the teatime with us and then, go on your way.”
The foreigners gratefully agreed and sat down with the family at the table, a big steaming teapot in its middle. They were sipping on the tea, eating a freshly baked apple pie and chatting about their families and kids. Little Girl's parents shared their concern about their daughter future. They were truly amazed when the foreigners offered to take their daughter with them to a wonderful and far away country of miles of golden sand along the shoreline, evergreen trees, and never-ending sunshine.
“Your daughter,” The woman hugged Little Girl. “Is such a sweet baby! We, me and Master, will take good care of her. We will make sure she goes to a good school and becomes skillful in whatever she chooses. Then, she can come back here and take care of you. Of course, if she doesn’t like it in our country,” She rolled her eyes. “And decides to return here, we will make sure that she gets here safely.”
The parents thought about it for a while and finally agreed. They bade farewell to their Little Girl and, standing at the threshold and holding each other, cried quietly, looking at their daughter walking away, her favorite toy, a puppy, squeezed in her hand.
So, the girl started to live with the family of Master and his Mistress. She never went to school, but she was fed, clothed and she even got her own cupboard underneath a staircase where she lived. The whole day long, she was doing things around the house, swiping, scrubbing the floors, cleaning, dusting off, serving meals and mending clothes.
Sometimes, when she was running errands in the city, she got to meet her natives, who, just like she did, served the citizens of Richland. They were the first ones to get up in the morning and the last ones to go to sleep at night. They were neither paid nor thanked for their hard work, but rather, they were always blamed for anything that went wrong in their Masters’ households, either was it young Master who spilled the milk, Mistress who broke her nail, or Master who stumbled over his kid’s toy. Everyone was treated the same way and eventually, it started to seem to Little Girl that this was how the life was supposed to be.
Once, she was blamed for fish not being as fresh as it could.
“If you were just a little bit concerned about the family who treats you so well,” Mistress said, graciously putting her napkin aside. “You would surely be willing to get up early in the morning to go to the fisherman’s wharf to get some freshly caught fish so we would have it for dinner.” She got up from the table. “Tomorrow.”
The very next morning, Little Girl got up long before dawn and walked to the fisherman’s wharf, which was a few miles away. When she got there, she saw a boat, landing at the pier. She came closer and saw a Fisherman getting fish out of a net.
“Good Morning.” She greeted him.
“Good Morning to you, too.” He lifted his hay hat.
The man, who got some silver in his curly hair, and tiny wrinkles around his bright blue eyes, was very handsome.
Little Girl asked him to give her some fish.
“I will give you as much fish as you want, but what do you have to exchange it for?”
The girl didn’t understand what he meant.
“I do need to give you something in return?” She asked surprised.
The man smiled. “It seems like your family didn’t teach you any trading rules.”
She blushed and shook he head.
“Oh, don’t be ashamed!” The man laughed. “Let me explain it to you. It’s really pretty simple. I am a fisherman and I got plenty of fish. You, for example, harvest barriers and mushrooms in a forest. Fish all by itself isn’t that tasty, but with some mushrooms, it’s delicious.” He smacked his lips. “But, I don’t have any. You- do. So, I give you some fish and you give me some mushrooms. Understand now?”
“I do, but… I don’t have any mushrooms. I can bring some tomorrow, but…” Her eyes widen with fear. “But, Master and Mistress want to have fish for dinner, tonight!”
Fisherman thought for a minute. “Is there anything you can do?”
“Yes!” The girl exclaimed happily. “I can clean, and swipe, and mend clothes.”
“I do it all myself.” He disregarded. “What else can you do?”
Little Girl thought for a while. There was one thing she used to do, but it was such a silly thing, she wasn't sure it was worth mentioning, but she finally gave in. “I could sing, but it’s been a while since the last time, so I…”
“Sing?” He interrupted her. “Really?! I would love to hear you singing.” His voice was breaking with excitement.
So, she sat down on a sack of sand, lying nearby and started to sing about her country, so beautiful and so sad, about the golden field of ray and scent of hay, about a big lake, its line cut with thousand shores and weeping willows on its sides, about the night sky, in the end of summer, full of bright starts.
“What’s wrong?” She asked Fisherman when she saw tears in the corners of his blue eyes. “You don’t like my singing?”
“Oh, silly child, I love your singing! It’s just.. it’s my country you are singing about.” He looked aside. “And I miss it a lot.”
Little Girl couldn’t believe her ears. She met someone, who came from her country and who wasn’t someone’s servant, but rather, was a free man. Tall, wise and handsome, and he was her native.
“I didn’t know that someone from Hardland could be a freelance here.” She exclaimed.
“Oh, yes, one can, it’s just nobody wants you to know about it.” He looked at the girl. “Thank you for singing. Here, take it.” He gave her his best catch of fish. “Bring it to your Masters. They will love it and want to have it for dinner every day. So, you come over here. I will teach you things.”
Fisherman was right. Master and Mistress were very pleased. They loved the fish, its meat, flaky and buttery, was melting in their mouths. They wanted to have it for dinner every day. So, Little Girl started to go to the wharf every morning. She learned about fishing, fish and ways to make it. She helped Fishermen to sell it, too. While doing things side by side, they talked. The man told her what it meant to be free, not to be blamed for anybody's misfortune, to have no owner.
“You are smart and brave.” Little Girl said, placing a fish on a blanket, rubbing salt into it and wrapping it into leaves. “I could never be able to do anything like that, to be free and to live on my own.” She put the fish in the smoker and closed the lid.
“You could!” He argued.
“No, I depend on Mister and Mistress too much.”
Fisherman pointed at her head. “In here, yes, you do.” He pointed at her heart. “But in here, you don’t. Your mind is afraid, but your heart is fearless. You got enough courage to break free from people who abuse you.”
Little Girl remembered the words. She thought about them during long sleepless nights and endless hardworking days, while scrubbing the floors and dusting off furniture.
One morning, when she was helping out to a customer at the wharf, balancing on the very edge of the pier, cheerfully smiling and advising about the fish, she noticed an old lady starring at her.
“May I help you with something?” She asked, drying hands on the apron.
“No, my child. I am just looking at you for you are the most adorable little thing I ever seen. The loveliest fishergirl every working at this wharf.” She smiled and walked away.
Little Girl was stunned. For the first time out of all those years she lived in Richland, she wasn’t addressed as a servant. That old lady, a stranger, took her for a freelance.
“Fishergirl. I am a fishergirl, now.” She held her head up and smiled.
The same night, she came into Mister and Mistress room and announced her leaving.
“What?!” Mistress was astounded. “No way!” She smashed the little coffee table and spilled her warm milk. “Though, go ahead, and try to survive on your own. You will scrawl back, on your knees. You won’t make it without us!”
“Yes, without us, you are nothing!” Echoed Master. “We gave you everything and we can take it away!”
“Take it.”
“You! How dare you to talk back to me!” Master jumped out of his deep chair, but lost his balance and plunged right back in. “You, little skunk! Get out of here! Do not take anything with you! Nothing is yours!”
“I won’t take your stuff.” She said and left the room, Mister and Mistress still sitting there with their mouths wide open.
Little Girl went to her cupboard and took the only thing that was hers, a little stuffed puppy, her parents gave her long time ago.
And so, holding the puppy in her hand, she walked out of the house.
She happened to leave at the darkest time of night, which, as you all know, happens just before sunrise.
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September 2009
Once upon a time, there was Little Fish. She lived among her fish family in a shallow and winding river, which was running through fields and woods, bringing its fresh water to many small villages, settled down on its high banks. During warm summertime, when the sun was high in the sky and pleasant breeze was barely touching the cool waters of the river, Little Fish played with her mates the whole daylong. Her favorite thing ever was to jump high above the sparkling clean water, to take a look at the bright and colorful world above it, and to sink down to the very bottom of the shallow river. In the winter, the river became frozen and Little Fish fell asleep for a few months until the time when the warm sun melted the ice in the spring and the river was freed to run joyfully through the blooming fields once again.
One winter, Little Fish had a dream about a wide-open water, its mysterious depths and about strong winds blowing above it. She saw herself being in this water, jumping far above it and seeing no end to it.
When Little Fish woke up from her sleep in the spring, she couldn't get the dream out of her head. She kept thinking about the wide-open water, the exciting and fascinating life she would live there. After a while, she decided to go and see her mother, whom she shared her thoughts with and asked for an advice.
“It seems to me, sweetie, as if you have already made up your mind. You know what you want. If you think that you have to leave the shallow river to be happy, here is my blessing. Just keep in mind that no matter what, you are always welcomed here for this is your home.” – Said Fish Mother and kissed her daughter good-bye.
Upset and excited at the same time, Little Fish bade farewell to the rest of her fish family and friends and swam down the shallow river. She followed her dream, which, just like a northern star, led her to the water she longed for. After many days and nights, Little Fish finally got to the great blue ocean.
Her heart jumped with joy as she rushed into the endless waters laying in front of her. She sank deep down, to the very bottom of the ocean, and shot up to its very heights, breaking through its surface and seeing nothing but the sky, blue as the ocean itself.
But after a while, when her initial excitement cooled down a bit, she sensed that there was something wrong. For some reason, she felt uneasy, out of the balance, in a way. She was looking for an explanation, but she couldn't find one. It seemed as if she has got everything she ever dreamed about, but in spite of that, it didn’t feel right. There was the whole ocean to swim in, but for some reason she felt as if its waters were closing down on her. There was the whole bunch of juicy seaweed to eat but it tasted awfully bitter and salty to her. She got playmates, but she looked so different from her new pals that she never felt like she was one of them. Little Fish did her best to adapt, to change herself to fit into the new environment but it didn't work out. She was aimlessly swimming around in the blue waters, until she finally told herself: “I suppose, everyone got its own place in life and mine is the one where I was born. I probably should give up the ocean and come back into the shallow river.”
She sighed and decided to swim around for a bit longer, just to say good-bye to the wide-open water she fell in love with so much, and to her life here. She felt uneasy for she knew that now, after having a taste of a wide open water life, living in the shallow river won't feel right, either.
Sad and deep in her thoughts, she was wandering around, glancing at the unwelcoming waters of the ocean for the last time when she heard someone talking to her.
“Why are you so sad, Little Fish?”
She turned around and saw an old and wise catfish, who was looking at her with curiosity and concern. Little Fish came closer and told him her story. When she finished, the old catfish looked at her kindly and said: “My dear child, have you ever thought that instead of giving up your dream of the wide open waters, leaving the salty ocean and going back to the shallow river, you should consider a fresh water lake to look for?”
“A fresh water lake? What is it?” – She asked, for she had no clue of what it was.
The catfish smiled into its whiskers.
“A fresh water lake is something that can be as great as this ocean, but it feels as comfortable as the shallow river you came from for there is no salt in its waters.”
“Salt?”
“Yes, my dear child, salt. Something that this ocean is full of. Something that makes it no good for you.”
Little Fish felt like the weight of the whole world was lifted up off her shoulders. At once, everything became so clear and simple to her. She hearty thanked the old and wise catfish and joyfully headed to the wide-open waters of the great fresh-water lake up on the north.
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