The Little Mermaid

The Little Mermaid

Far out at sea, where the water was so blue it seemed a piece of the sky, stood the sea king's palace. Its walls were pink coral, its tall windows clear amber, and its roof was covered with shells that opened and closed with the current. The sea king had been a widower for many years. His old mother, the wise grandmother of six princesses, looked after the palace. All six sisters were beautiful, but the youngest was different from the others. Quiet and thoughtful, she loved nothing better than stories about the world above the water. Behind the palace, each princess had a little garden. The older sisters planted marvelous sea plants and collected glittering stones and ornaments from wrecked ships. The youngest made her garden round like the sun. In its center she placed a white marble statue of a boy that had fallen from a sunken ship. “Grandmother, what is it like up there?” she asked. “There are skies, stars, forests, towns, and people.” “Do they live underwater?” “No. They walk on land and breathe the air.” “And they can watch the sunset every day?” “They can.” Mermaids were allowed to rise to the surface for the first time only when they turned fifteen. One by one, the older sisters reached that age and returned with wonderful stories. One had seen moonlight on a quiet sea. Another had seen a great city, its thousands of lights reflected in the water. A third had swum up a broad river and heard birds singing in the woods. A fourth had admired mountains of ice shining in the sun. The fifth had been caught in a storm and said she had never seen anything so beautiful or so frightening. At last it was the youngest sister's turn. Her grandmother put white lilies in her hair. “Remember,” she said, “the human world is beautiful, but it is not our world. Look, listen, and come home.” The little mermaid rose lightly through the water. When her head appeared above the waves, the sun was setting. The sky glowed with gold and pink. A great ship sailed nearby. Flags hung from its masts, music played, and people laughed on deck. The little mermaid swam closer. At the heart of the celebration stood a young prince. It was his sixteenth birthday. He smiled at the sailors and watched the lights, and to the little mermaid he looked like the marble boy in her garden, only alive and happy. For a long time she could not look away. The night grew darker. Suddenly the wind rose. Waves lifted the ship and rocked it from side to side. The sailors hurried to take in some of the sails, but the storm grew fiercer. The little mermaid knew the sea. She could see the ship was in danger. Lightning tore across the sky. There was a terrible crack, a mast fell, and the ship began to break apart. People tumbled into the water. At once she thought of the prince. She dived among the wreckage, found him, and caught him beneath the shoulders. Humans could not live underwater, so she held his head above the waves and swam toward land all night. By dawn, the storm had passed. Near the shore stood a large, pale building with a garden. The little mermaid gently laid the prince on a sheltered stretch of sand, brushed the wet hair from his forehead, and waited. Soon some girls came out of the garden. One spotted the prince and called the others. The little mermaid hid behind the rocks. She watched him open his eyes and smile at the girl beside him. He did not know who had truly saved him. The little mermaid returned to the sea, silent and sad. After that, she often swam to the shore near the prince's palace. She watched him from a distance, listened to music drifting from the garden, and studied the lighted windows. And she thought more and more about human beings. “Grandmother,” she asked one day, “is it true that people do not live as long as we do?” “It is. Our lives in the sea can last hundreds of years. But then we become sea foam and return to nature.” “And people?” “Their lives are shorter. Yet the old stories say they have immortal souls.” The little mermaid pondered this. She wanted more than to be near the prince. She longed to understand the human world, feel solid earth beneath her feet, and discover whether her own life might have a path beyond the sea. Her sisters told her not to dream of impossible things. Her grandmother grew sad. But one evening, the little mermaid swam to a place everyone else avoided. There, among dark weeds and strange sea trees, lived the sea witch. “I know why you have come,” she said. “You want to leave your tail behind and walk on land.” The little mermaid nodded. “It can be done. But every great wish has a price. I will give you a potion. Drink it on the shore, and your tail will disappear. You will have legs. You will walk and dance more gracefully than many humans, although at first every step will be difficult.” “And the price?” The witch looked at her closely. “Your voice. You have the loveliest voice in the sea kingdom. I shall keep it.” The little mermaid touched her throat. “Will I never speak again?” “Never. You will have your smile, your eyes, your hands, your thoughts, and your heart—but no voice. And you must understand something else. If the prince chooses another bride, you cannot remain beside him as before. At dawn after his wedding, your human journey will end, and the sea will call you to another fate.” For a long time, the little mermaid was still. Then she held out her hand. “I agree.” The witch gave her a small bottle. The little mermaid looked her farewell at her father's palace, her garden, and her marble statue. Then she swam to the shore. On the steps of the prince's palace, she drank the potion. The world spun around her, and she fell asleep. In the morning, the prince found her. “Who are you? Where have you come from?” She tried to answer, but her voice was gone. She could only smile. The prince gave her clothes and welcomed her into the palace. He soon grew fond of her company. She learned to walk, ride a horse, and climb the hills. Each step was hard at first, but she never complained. At balls she danced so lightly that people forgot the music and watched only her. The prince called her his little foundling and trusted her above anyone else. But there was one thing she could not explain. “Once I nearly drowned at sea,” he told her. “A girl near a temple saved me. I saw her when I opened my eyes. I will never forget her face.” The little mermaid gazed at him. It was me, she thought. If only I could tell you. All she could do was squeeze his hand. Time passed. The king decided his son should marry and suggested he meet a princess from the neighboring kingdom. “I will not marry without love,” said the prince. “There is only one girl I have ever dreamed of finding.” Yet when they reached the neighboring country, a young princess came out to meet them. The prince stood still. “It is her!” he whispered. “The very girl I saw after the storm!” The little mermaid understood his mistake. The princess really had been among those who found him on the shore, but she had not carried him out of the sea. The prince was overjoyed. Before long, a wedding was announced. The celebration took place aboard a great ship. Lanterns shone over the deck, and music floated far across the water. The little mermaid danced for the last time. She looked at the prince and saw his happiness. I wanted him to be happy, she thought. How can I wish him anything else now? That night, when the guests had gone to rest, five familiar heads rose from the sea. Her sisters had come. Their long hair had been cut short. “We gave our hair to the sea witch,” they said. “In return she gave us a magic knife. If you harm the prince with it before dawn, the spell will break. You will be a mermaid again. You can come home.” They laid the knife on the deck. The little mermaid picked it up. In his cabin, the prince slept beside his bride. A peaceful smile rested on his face. She stood in the doorway for a long time. She could take back her old life at the cost of someone else's, or accept the consequences of her own choice. She lowered her hand. “No,” she said without a sound. She returned to the deck and threw the knife into the sea. A pink line of dawn spread across the east. The little mermaid climbed over the rail and jumped into the water. But warm light surrounded her instead of darkness. She was not sinking. Her body had become light and clear as morning mist. Soft voices sounded all around. “Who are you?” she wondered—and, for the first time after her long silence, heard her own voice. “We are the daughters of the air,” answered her unseen companions. “We are not born with immortal souls, but we can earn them through kindness, compassion, and patience.” “Then my journey is not over?” “No. It has only changed.” The little mermaid rose above the ship. Below, the prince and his young bride came onto the deck to greet the dawn. They could not see her, but she no longer felt bitterness. She bent down and brushed the prince's forehead as lightly as a cool morning breeze. Then she looked out across the sea, toward her father's distant palace. She missed her family, but she knew that one day her kind deeds would lead her to a new home. Together with the daughters of the air, she flew toward the sun. She had lost her voice, yet learned to listen to her heart. She had not found the life she once imagined, but she had made her most important choice herself: she would not turn her love into another person's sorrow. Below her, the sea shone as blue and deep as on the day she first rose to see the human world.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨