A girl and a river.

A fairytale for the therapist.

There once was a girl who lived in a house not far from a river. The river was full of water and rich with fish. In the backyard of the house there was a deep old well.

When the girl was little and lived with her mother and father, they told her that when she grows up, there's something she will have to do every day: draw a hundred buckets of water from the well and pour it into the river. If she wouldn't, the river would dry up and the fish would die.

Ever since her parents passed away, she has been doing her duty. Her hands and feet blistered to blood, but she would carry a hundred buckets of water down to the river every day, with no respite.

One morning, a thirsty traveler knocked on her door. She poured him a glass of water, excused herself and hurried to the well because her work for the day has barely began. The traveler begged her to stay, enticing her with his tales of faraway lands she never dreamed to see. The girl agreed to listen for a little while, but he was talking so sweetly that she, charmed, couldn't bring herself to stop him. At sunset, the traveler took up his sack and went on his way. The girl, as she remembered that she poured but little water into the river all day, jumped up, terrified, and ran to the shore, dreading to see the drying puddles of water and the writhing fishes. But when she found herself on the shore, she saw the river right there, as full as ever, quietly bubbling, fish jumping in the moonlight.

She went to bed happy. She woke happy, with her feet no longer tired and her hands not hurting. She took a clean piece of cloth, wrapped up a loaf of bread and a little cheese, found her father's little old rowboat in the reeds, untied it and rode down the river to never be seen again.