The Harp
Once upon a time, there lived a young man in a land far away. He was a humble radish farmer making just enough money to keep a small plot of land where he lived alone. The man was kind at heart and hardworking, but he felt unsatisfied with his life. Every morning he would get up, collect his radishes and take them to the market. Then he would come home and eat whatever he couldn’t sell and go to bed early to wake up early the next day. Yet he always felt there was something bigger and more important waiting for him.
One day, when he was at the market, he overheard an elderly woman telling her grandson a tale about a magical harp that lay deep in the forest. The woman said the harp had strange powers and who ever could climb the mountain and survive the forest would be able to play the harp.
“Excuse me madam” the young farmer interpreted, “What happens when the harp is played?”
The woman smiled “Whoever plays the harp will inherit greatness. Ultimate strength and intelligence”
“Has anyone played the harp before?” asked the farmer.
“Who’s to say? Many have made the trip up the mountain, but none have returned.”
“Come on grandma, let’s go” said the small boy, tugging on his grandmothers sleeve. The farmer was intrigued by the story. As he was walking home he wondered if the story could possibly be real and what it would be like to have ultimate strength and intelligence. He imagined a better life for himself where he could live in a big house with a pretty wife. He could have a brilliant job in business or something of that nature. He would have friends and he would never be lonely again. He was convinced, so the next day he packed a sack of food and tools and started his journey up the mountain, into the forest. Soon, the farmer found how difficult the hike was. He was scrambling up rocks and crawling up long steep hills. When darkness fell the farmer found it was safest to sleep in the trees, out of reach from creepers and crawlers. The screeches and howls kept him awake at night. When traveling he felt fatigue, noticing his low supply of food and clean water. The more he walked, the more confused he got, trees became too similar and he was certain he had past this spot before. Lost and tired, the farmer was beginning to think the harp didn't even exist.
He had been in the forest for almost three days now when he reached the edge of a breath taking river. He was just about ready to give up and turn around. As he knelt down to the cool river to wash his face, suddenly he saw it. Reflected in the water, the harp shimmered on the river bank, overgrown with moss and vines. So it true, he thought, its really true.
He got up to approach the harp when suddenly a tiny man sprung from out from the trunk of a tree and he had a sharp little sword. “I am the protector of the harp! I live in this forest. If you come too close I will have to kill you! I have killed many before” yelled the small man. But the farmer was too tired to fight so he sat down on a stump and began eating his last radish. The small man came closer to him “Will you not fight?”
“No” said the farmer “Would you like some radish?” The small man nibbled the radish and nodded.
“I will not kill you” said the little man, “you look hungy? Shall I bring you some more food?”, the farmer noded. The little man went into his tiny tree house through a miniature door on the side of the trunk. His tiny windows lit up and then he came out again with a plate full of food. The farmer was very grateful and wolfed down the meal.
The small man smiled “ I like you, and I will permit you to play the harp if you so choose. The farmer was jumping up and down with excitement. He walked over to the harp and sat down to play. “I hope you know what you're getting yourself into” said the small man.
The farmer looked up “What do you mean?”
“Well,” the little man said leaning against a rock “Ultimate knowledge is no walk in the park. Some things are not meant to be known. And ultimate strength comes with ultimate responsibility.”
“Responsibility?” the farmer eyed the golden harp.
“Oh yes. People will constantly need your assistance. You will be like a superhero...that is until your strength is out of your control and you break the thing you love”
The farmer grimaced “Well how about ultimate knowledge. That is sure to lead me to a successful life?”
“Like I said,” the small man licked his red fingers, “Not everything is meant to be know. Like where the universe ends, or what happens to you when you die” The farmer started to feel sick again. “Yes, I don't think any man should know the truth about how radishes turn red”.
The farmer turned away from the harp and sighed. The small man smiled and asked the farmer to stay a while and guard the harp with him. So the farmer and small man became good friends and now every weekend the farmer comes to visit him with a fresh bunch of radishes. And they lived happily ever after.
I love this story. I also did the harp picture and a couple of the plot points of our story were the same, especially the parts about the harp being some sort of magical device. It was so interesting to see where you took the story with the same picture.
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