Once Upon A Time

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.