Small water play

⏱ ~5 min reading

In a small bay hidden between two rocky capes, there lived an unusual water feature. Yes, not in a garden, not in a square — but simply on the shore, among the wet round pebbles, in which you could see your own face.

The fountain was small—no taller than an old shoe. But it did a strange thing: it jumped on its own. Without a pump, without any pipes or motors. It simply shot a thin stream from under the stone and danced in the air—now up, now sideways, now drawing a circular loop in the air, now falling down in drops that glittered in the sun like scattered pearls.

They say it was discovered by an old fisherman. His name was Myron. He lived in a blue house on a hill, had a gray beard that smelled of sea salt, and warm eyes the color of the morning sky. Once, many, many years ago, Myron was walking along the shore after a night on a boat, tired, and sat down on a stone to rest. And then - he heard a soft gurgling. He bent down - and saw a small stream dancing from under the stone.

"Wow," the fisherman was surprised. "Where are you from, little one?"

The water sparrow didn't answer. He just jumped a little higher, as if to brag.

Myron sat down next to him and started watching. He watched for a minute. He watched for another minute. He watched for ten minutes. And suddenly he noticed: his mood was rising on its own. The fatigue was receding. His heart was lighter than it had been.

From that day on, the old fisherman came to the fountain every day. Before work. After work. In the rain, in a raincoat. In the heat, in a straw hat. He simply sat on a stone, watched the water dance, and listened. For the fountain had its own quiet noise—like a child's laughter, but so faint that only the attentive could hear it.

Little by little, people in the village noticed: whoever passes by the fountain has a better day that day. Young Yaryna, who was arguing with her husband, once looked in there. She sat there for ten minutes. She came home and stopped arguing. Little Timko, who was afraid of the dark, went to the fountain with his mother. And that same night he fell asleep without tears. Old grandmothers, whose legs hurt, after an hour at the fountain said: "It's strange, but I'm walking easier.".

Some of the older, more serious people laughed. They said it was just water, nothing special. But Myron didn't argue. He just smiled into his beard and came back the next day.

"You are my joy," he said softly to the fountain. "You and the sea. I need nothing else.".

Sometimes Myron would bring a small bag of salt with him, sprinkle it on the stones around him, and say: «This will make it taste better for you.» Sometimes he would bring a crust of bread and crumble it for the seagulls that sat nearby. The seagulls would scream happily, the water fountain would dance above, and Myron would sit in the middle of it all, smiling as wide as if he had the whole sun in his pocket.

Myron lived to be a hundred years old. Everyone in the village knows this. And until his last day, he walked to the bay — slowly, with a stick, but he walked. He always said that it was thanks to the fountain.

When he died, everyone came to the bay - both those who believed and those who laughed. They stood silently on the shore. And suddenly they noticed: the water fountain was not jumping. It was sitting quietly under a stone, barely making noise - and that was it.

"He's sad," someone whispered.

This lasted for three days. For three days the water feature did not dance. The sea was agitated nearby, the seagulls cried plaintively. And the water under the stone was silent.

On the fourth day — suddenly — early in the morning — the water fountain came to life. Someone came to the shore and saw: it was dancing. Quietly, at first a little uncertainly. And then — as usual.

They say that since that day, the fountain has been dancing for everyone who is happy. And also for those who need joy.

Once upon a time, a little girl came to the bay. Her name was Olena. She was seven years old. This week, a lot of sad things happened to her - her younger brother got sick, her friend moved to another city, and her school notebook was lost. Olena sat down on a wet pebble near the waterfall, put her arms around her knees, and cried quietly.

The waterfall suddenly jumped higher. Even higher. More and more. Droplets flew into the air and fell on Elena's cheeks - warm from the morning sun.

"Oh," said Elena and wiped her face with her palm.

The waterfall jumped again. Elena laughed—quietly at first. Then more broadly. Then she laughed and wiped her tears at the same time—her face became simultaneously wet and bright, like after rain and sunshine.

She sat by the fountain for a long time. She listened to his soft laughter. She watched him draw loops in the air. And little by little the sadness fell from her heart, like pollen from a leaf shaken by a light wind.

As she was walking home, a grandfather with a fishing rod passed by her—the grandson of old Myron. He nodded to her wisely.

— I see, the water fountain danced for you today.

"Yeah," Elena nodded. "He knew I was sad.".

"He always knows," Grandpa smiled. "That's why we love him. There are such quiet sources of joy in the world. Water, trees, animals, nice words. You just have to find your own - and don't forget to sit next to them sometimes.".

Olena promised herself: she would come to the fountain every Saturday. Just sit. Just listen.

And the water frog is still dancing. In a small bay, between two rocky capes, on round pebbles. No one knows where he gets his strength from. But when you are sad, come. He will jump higher and higher because he wants you to smile.

And you will smile. You will see.