There once was a maiden, so kind-hearted and sweet. She would give candy to
the children of the village and feed the swans at the lake everyday. No one knew
who her parents were. When she was young, she often cried. She cried for so
many reasons, even reasons so small. She cried when she broke her pencil, she
cried when anyone was mean to her, she cried when someone yelled at her; she
cried so many times for so many reasons that everyone called her "The Crying
Maiden". But who knew if the crying was natural or not? Who knew if it was just
because of those silly reasons? Apart from the younger kids, everyone wondered
about her tears. Word soon reached the king and queen, and they wondered too.
There was no answer to those mysterious questions, and everyone began to
worry. Until one time...
the children of the village and feed the swans at the lake everyday. No one knew
who her parents were. When she was young, she often cried. She cried for so
many reasons, even reasons so small. She cried when she broke her pencil, she
cried when anyone was mean to her, she cried when someone yelled at her; she
cried so many times for so many reasons that everyone called her "The Crying
Maiden". But who knew if the crying was natural or not? Who knew if it was just
because of those silly reasons? Apart from the younger kids, everyone wondered
about her tears. Word soon reached the king and queen, and they wondered too.
There was no answer to those mysterious questions, and everyone began to
worry. Until one time...
Chapter 1
Buzzing Bees
Page 1
Buzzing Bees
Page 1
It was a Friday in the afternoon, in a peaceful village called Mayhenge. It was a
sunny, cloudy day, with no other that could compare. The birds chirped a
charming melody, and the trees danced to the gentle-flowing breeze. If anyone
looked close enough, they would see a beautiful sparrow, merely a single small
figure, perched on the highest flag outside the castle.
The children at school were beginning to walk back home after a spring's day of
school. However, some stayed to play kickball in the green, grassy fields. Some
also watched them, too. "Give it a big kick, Henry!" or "You can do it, Johnny!"
were about what they said from time to time.
They played for many hours, sometimes to take a break or two during each hour.
They talked to their friends during those breaks about how they thought school
work was too much, or how their parents would react, or even any secrets that
weren't supposed to be spoken about. Then they got a drink of water and some
snacks and continued to play. They played so happily and joyfully, that, who
would think something strange on a day like this would happen?
In the center of the village sat The Crying Maiden, resting her hands on the handle
of the basket of candies and fruits, and many other snacks. The kids cluttered and
clustered around her like the parts of an egg shell surrounding the yolk; not too
close at times, and not too far. That's how it always was, because no one knew
too much about her.
The Crying Maiden handed one snack to each child's reached-out palm, and none
received more than one each day. She knew everyone's names and faces that she
would know when someone asked for seconds. Everyone knew that the maiden
was too kind for anyone to be greedy and ask for more than the share.
But today, a new boy from another village came to visit with his family. He
bumped and pushed children out of the way, and even stepped on their feet. When
he finally saw the maiden, he stuck out his small, skinny hand. The Crying Maiden
handed him a lollipop, but the boy did not thank her, and continued to stick out his
hand. The Crying Maiden stared at him anxiously and spoke no word, but tears started streaming down from her eyes to her face. Everyone gasped at the boy,
knowing not to be greedy to the maiden. And he probably figured after what
happened to him. The site was heart-stopping.
To Be Continued...
