“The business leaders,” said the psychotherapist. “The what?” said the maiden – who was simple, as we know. Seek ye now the opinion of the business leaders.” For the days of counsel are over, and the therapies of listening and reflecting consigned to the past. “Pity,” said the therapist – who was a female person. “I am young and seek to be the bride to a woodcutter’s son. “Therapist therapist!” she sang at the door, as she arrived at the therapist’s abode (which was pretty opulent by local standards, I can tell you). On she skipped, bright as a butterfly, keen as a quite-keen fish, or tropical bird – but not exactly chirping. It is the village psychotherapist and counsellor that you seek, who is learnéd in books, and qualified in courses, and under the supervision of a fellow professional.” “For I too am no longer permitted to offer advice. “Alas, fair maiden, I cannot help,” the priest replied quite sadly. The magic pond keeper has sent me forth, for he is decommissioned – though I don’t know why as he was good enough for my parents and all our ancestors.” “Oh holy one,” the girl enquired, kneeling at his feet, “I am a simple daughter and seek permission to wed a woodcutter’s son. But I have been decommissioned – for we are obsolete – and must direct you to the nearest accredited priest of an established religion.”Īnd so she scurried through the wood and on to the nearest temple, where a priest in golden vestments sat upon a blesséd chair. “Well, I’d like to help,” said the pond keeper, “for the judgement of the pond is never wrong. I am in love with the woodcutter’s son, and I come to seek a blessing upon our union.” “Who comes to seek the word of the magic pond?” “Who goes there?” said the old pond keeper, his pebble necklace gleaming in the sunrise. “True,” said the father, “but now you must consult the magic pond.”Īnd so the daughter rose next morning and tripped lightly through the fields, and down the hill, and through the woods to the magic pond. “You have known and played with him all your life, and he says he really likes you.” “Well this is hardly sudden,” said the mother. “Then you should know,” she told her parents, “that the woodcutter’s son, whom I have known and played with all my life, has said that really likes me and wants to marry me.” “I suppose – ” she said one evening – “I shall soon be grown, and the time shall come for me to take a husband.” Then one day, they realised that their daughter was growing up. For years they pursued their unelaborate lives, working quite hard, not having much, but somehow getting by without causing any serious harm to the rest of humanity. In a simple village, in a simple age, there lived a simple family – of a simple man, his simple wife and their simply beautiful daughter.
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