Kids · 4 minThe Mouse Maiden

Once upon a time, on the bank of a wide river, there lived a kind old rishi in a small hut with a mango tree beside it. Every morning before sunrise he walked down into the river, stood in the cool water up to his knees, and said his prayers to the rising sun.

One morning, just as he raised his cupped hands to the sky, something small and grey fell out of the air and landed right in his palms. It was a baby mouse, wet and trembling. High above, a hawk circled once, looked down crossly, and flew away. It had dropped its breakfast.

The rishi looked at the tiny creature. Its whiskers shook. Its heart went so fast he could feel it against his fingers. "Do not be afraid, little one," he said softly. "Nobody will eat you today."

Now this rishi had lived a long, good life, and through his prayers he had a little magic. He and his wife had always wished for a child. So he closed his eyes, whispered a few words over the mouse, and when he opened his hands again, there sat a tiny baby girl, laughing and kicking her feet.

His wife was overjoyed. They named the girl and raised her with all their love. She grew up in the little hut by the river, running about the mango tree, chasing butterflies, learning her letters on the sandy bank. She was clever and cheerful, though she did have some funny habits. She loved grains of rice more than sweets, she always slept curled up in a ball, and whenever she saw a cat, she ran behind her mother.

Years went by, and the girl grew up. One evening the rishi's wife said, "Our daughter is old enough to marry now. We must find her a good husband."

"A good husband?" said the rishi. "Our daughter deserves the best husband in the whole world, the strongest of all. And who is stronger than the Sun, who lights up the sky?"

So the next morning he took his daughter up the hill and called to the Sun. "O great Sun, will you marry my daughter?"

The girl looked up and squinted. "Father, he is far too hot," she whispered. "I will be burnt all day."

The Sun laughed kindly. "Rishi, I am not the strongest. When the Cloud comes, he covers my face and I cannot shine at all. Ask the Cloud."

So the rishi called the Cloud. The Cloud came rolling over, grey and grumbling. "Father, he is far too dark and gloomy," whispered the girl. "And he cries rain all the time."

"I am not the strongest either," rumbled the Cloud. "The Wind pushes me wherever he likes. Ask the Wind."

So the rishi called the Wind. The Wind came rushing up the hill and nearly blew the girl's skirt over her head. "Father, he cannot sit still for one moment," she said, holding on to a rock.

"Strongest? Not me," whooshed the Wind. "When I meet the Mountain, I blow and blow and he does not move at all. Ask the Mountain."

So they walked to the great Mountain. "Father, he is so hard and cold," said the girl, "and so big that I cannot even see where he ends."

The Mountain thought slowly, as mountains do. Then he said, in a deep voice, "Rishi, I am not the strongest. There is someone small who digs into my sides, makes his home inside me, and I cannot stop him at all. Ask the mouse."

At that very moment, a small grey mouse popped out of a hole at the foot of the Mountain, cleaned his whiskers and looked up at them. And the girl, for the first time that day, smiled from ear to ear. "Oh, Father," she said, "this is the one I like."

The rishi looked at his daughter, and then at the mouse, and he began to laugh. "Of course," he said. "I went to the Sun and the Cloud and the Wind and the Mountain, and the answer was a mouse all along."

So with his blessing he whispered his words once more, and his daughter became a pretty little mouse again, with bright eyes and soft grey fur. The mice of the Mountain held a wedding with a tiny garland of jasmine, rice grains for the feast, and much squeaking and clapping. The rishi and his wife came to visit them every full moon, and they always brought rice.

And so the elders say: we are happiest when we are true to who we are. The best match is not the biggest or the strongest, but the one who truly suits us.