Sir One Long Body and Madame Thousand Feet

Sir One Long Body and Madame Thousand Feet

In the Land of Morning Radiance, where rain leaves the earth smelling fresh and tiny creatures bustle beneath stones and roots, lived Mrs. Pill. Everyone called her Madame Thousand Feet.

In fact, no one knew exactly how many legs she had. She herself never counted them. But when Mrs. Pill hurried along the path under the leaves, it seemed as if dozens of tiny shoes were walking at the same time: tap-tap-tap-tap.

Mrs. Pill lived under a smooth stone near a persimmon tree. She loved the coolness, the damp earth, and evening walks when the sun was no longer scorching. If someone accidentally touched her, she would instantly curl up into a neat ball and wait until it became quiet again.

Nearby, in the soft earth of the vegetable gardens, lived Mr. Woom, nicknamed Sir One Long Body. He was an earthworm who spent his days digging underground passages. His work loosened the soil and helped plant roots breathe.

Mr. Woom was very hardworking. Every morning he said to himself:

“One more passage to the vegetable bed, then another to the garden. After that, I can rest.”

But he hardly ever managed to rest, because he always found some new thing to do.

One day a matchmaker friend, who liked to help neighbors get to know each other, said to Mrs. Pill's family:

“Have you heard of Mr. Woom? He is hardworking and calm, and knows the soil better than anyone.”

To Mr. Woom, she said:

“Mrs. Pill is clever, tidy, and quick. With so many feet, she gets everywhere in no time.”

Both families thought that sounded good. According to the custom of that time, they exchanged polite letters, and soon everyone around them was talking about the upcoming wedding.

That was when the trouble began.

In Mrs. Pill's village, someone whispered:

“Imagine how long Mr. Woom is! You would spend all winter sewing clothes to fit him.”

Another added:

“And who would clean those clothes after he spent the day digging in the earth?”

“You would have enough work for a hundred years!” a third voice added.

Mrs. Pill heard these conversations and at first laughed.

“What long clothes? He is a worm!”

But the gossip did not subside.

“You don’t know what you’re getting into,” the neighbors told her. “You’ll have no time to walk or rest.”

Mrs. Pill began to worry. She had never spoken to Mr. Woom herself and only knew about him from what others had told her.

“What if they are right?” she thought. “What if everyone has already decided for me how I should live?”

Meanwhile, conversations were also abuzz in Mr. Woom’s village.

“Did you hear that? Your fiancée has a thousand legs!” exclaimed one acquaintance.

“If each foot needs a shoe, you’ll go broke!” joked another.

“And imagine how she will stomp around the house!”

Mr. Woom didn’t pay attention at first.

“Let them talk,” he muttered and dug a new tunnel.

But in the evening, when it became quiet, he too became restless.

“I don’t even know Mrs. Pill,” he thought. “Why should I worry about what people who hardly know her have said?”

He crawled forward a little, then turned back and decided to write a letter.

That same evening, Mrs. Pill also sat down to write.

She took a long time choosing her words, because she didn’t want to offend anyone.

“Dear Mr. Woom,” she wrote. “I think we’ve been in too much of a hurry. I don’t want to get married just because others have decided so. We hardly know each other, and I don’t know if we’ll be happy together. I think it’s fair to stop now.”

Meanwhile, Mr. Woom wrote:

“Dear Mrs. Pill, I have thought carefully and do not want our marriage to begin with fears, calculations, and gossip. We have not yet had time to get to know each other. I think you should be free of our agreement. Let each of us choose our own path.”

The next morning, the two messengers set out from different villages to meet each other. In the middle of the road, they greeted each other, exchanged news, and laughed when they realized that they were carrying almost identical letters.

So Mrs. Pill received Mr. Woom’s letter just as hers had reached him.

She read it twice and sighed with relief.

“So he can think for himself too,” she said.

Mr. Woom read her letter and nodded:

“It’s a good thing we told the truth before we got angry at each other for something that didn’t really happen.”

The wedding didn’t happen. And the world didn’t turn upside down because of it.

Mrs. Pill continued to live under her cool stone, walking after the rain and deftly moving her many legs over the soft earth.

Mr. Woom went on digging useful passages underground. His tunnels loosened the garden beds and helped the plants grow.

The gossips kept debating who had left whom and why. Eventually, they grew tired of it and found new things to discuss.

One day, after a warm rain, Mrs. Pill and Mr. Woom happened to meet by the old persimmon tree.

“Good evening, Mr. Woom,” said Mrs. Pill.

“Good evening, Mrs. Pill,” he replied.

They talked a little about the weather, the wet ground, and how well the plants were growing this year.

And then Mrs. Pill smiled:

“That’s strange. If we had talked like this earlier, we probably would have listened to others less.”

“Exactly,” Mr. Woom agreed. “Other people’s voices can be very loud. But our own choices are best made calmly, for ourselves.”

They said goodbye politely and each went their own way.

From then on, people there sometimes said: before counting someone else’s feet, measuring their length, or imagining how they ought to live, get to know them first—even if they happen to be an earthworm or a many-legged neighbor.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨