The Nickerman's Wife

The Nickerman's Wife

Once upon a time, a young woman called Lidushka lived in a Czech village. Her house was near the river, with an old mill beyond the village. The water was dark and deep there, especially beside the dam, where it swirled beneath the wheel in silvery circles.

Lidushka was not afraid of the river, but she treated it with respect. She knew that water can be gentle when it flows quietly among the grass, and very strong where it becomes deep.

One clear day, Lidushka came to the bank to wash clothes. The sun warmed the stones, dragonflies flew over the reeds, and the meadow smelled of clover.

Lidushka bent over the water, rinsed her shirt, and suddenly she heard:

“Croa-a-ak!”

Right next to her hands was a big green frog.

“Where did you come from?” asked Lidushka with a smile.

The frog stayed still, watching her with round golden eyes as though she understood every word.

“Croak!”

“All right, all right,” laughed Lidushka. “If you ever have little frogs, invite me to visit. I’ll be their godmother.”

She said this jokingly and immediately forgot about her words.

Several weeks passed.

One morning Lidushka was busy in the kitchen when something rustled softly under the door.

Rustle-rustle.

Then a familiar sound was heard:

“Croa-a-ak!”

The same big frog was sitting on the threshold.

Lidushka was surprised.

“Have you really come for me?”

The frog turned toward the path, hopped a little way, and looked back.

“Croak!”

Lidushka remembered her promise.

“Very well. I said I’d come, so I must keep my word.”

She put on her shawl and followed the frog.

The frog hopped ahead across the meadow, then turned to the old mill and finally stopped at the deepest place under the dam.

“Here?” asked Lidushka. “But there’s water here.”

The frog touched a large flat stone with its paw.

The stone moved silently to the side.

A transparent staircase opened under it, leading directly under the water. It shone like glass.

Lidushka froze.

“This is quite a visit…”

The frog had already jumped onto the first step and looked back again.

Lidushka cautiously followed.

Strangest of all, the water did not flood the staircase. The river shimmered overhead, fish swam past, and green water plants waved as though beyond clear glass.

The stairs led to a large room with glowing blue walls. Water plants hung in strands from the ceiling, and a feast awaited them on the table.

There were little pies, nuts, berries, honey cakes, and dishes Lidushka had never seen before.

Little frogs wearing tiny green ribbons hurried up to her.

“Croak-croak-croak!”

“So you’re my godchildren?” she said with a laugh.

The old frog nodded proudly.

It was a merry celebration. Little frogs hopped around the table, fish flashed silver beyond the clear walls, and distant water rumbled over the mill wheel.

But then Lidushka wanted to take a little walk.

“I’ll just look around the house,” she told the frog.

She walked down the hall and noticed a door half-open.

Behind it lay a storeroom.

On the shelves stood dozens of large clay pots. All were turned upside down.

From under one came a quiet sound:

“Coo-oo… coo-oo…”

Lidushka bent down.

“Who’s there?”

She picked up the pot.

A white dove flew out from under it.

The bird circled the room, sat on Lidushka’s shoulder, and cooed softly.

“Have you been shut up in here?” asked Lidushka in surprise.

Something also moved under another pot.

Lidushka lifted it — and out flew another dove.

Then a third.

A fourth.

Soon the entire pantry was filled with the rustling of white wings.

Lidushka opened the pots one by one until the last dove broke free.

The old frog hurried into the room.

Seeing the empty pots, she gasped:

“Croa-a-ak!”

“What’s wrong?” asked Lidushka. “Have I done something bad?”

The frog quietly closed the door.

“The master of this house enchanted those doves and shut them in here,” she said in a voice now almost human. “He’s the Nickerman, a water spirit. He loves beautiful, unusual things, but doesn’t always understand that beautiful doesn’t mean ‘mine.’”

Lidushka looked at the doves.

“So I did the right thing by letting them go.”

“You did,” said the frog. “But the Nickerman will be furious. When he’s angry, the water around him turns swift and troubled.”

Lidushka straightened up.

“Then I will go home.”

“Wait.”

The frog jumped to a small shelf and took out a piece of dry bread.

“Take this. When you reach the bank, be sure to touch dry land. The Nickerman is strong in water, but his magic weakens on dry ground.”

“And the doves?”

“They will fly after you. When they see the sky, the spell will completely dissipate.”

Lidushka thanked the frog and hurried to the glass stairs.

The doves flew after her.

She climbed higher and higher.

Suddenly a rumble was heard from below.

At first quiet.

Then louder.

As if someone had stirred up the entire river.

“Who opened my storeroom?” an angry voice boomed along the corridors.

Lidushka did not look back.

She could already see the sunlight above the last step.

The stone moved away.

The girl jumped onto the shore, took a step to the side, and stood firmly with her bare foot on the dry grass.

At that moment, a great whirlpool formed beside the dam.

Long red ribbons flashed above the surface.

“Come back!” came the Nickerman’s voice. “Bring back my doves!”

Lidushka clutched a piece of dry bread in her hand.

“They’re not yours if they want to be free!” she replied.

The doves flew high into the sky.

The sun touched their white wings, and they shone so brightly that Lidushka squinted for a moment.

Red ribbons reached from the water toward them. The moment they touched dry ground, they fell as ordinary wet waterweed.

The waterman gurgled angrily somewhere under the water.

“I was lonely!” came his voice.

Lidushka was silent for a while.

“If you're lonely, invite guests. Don't lock them under the pots.”

There was a long silence in response.

Then the water calmed down.

“And if they don’t want to stay?”

“Then let them go. True friendship doesn’t need locks.”

A small wave ran across the water and touched the shore.

“I’ll think about it,” grumbled the Nickerman.

Lidushka smiled.

White doves circled above her, as if saying goodbye, and then flew in different directions over the fields and gardens.

When Lidushka returned home, no one believed her for a long time.

“An underwater house?”

“A glass staircase?”

“A talking frog?”

“And a Nickerman with red ribbons?”

But the next morning, a little green frog with a thin ribbon around its neck was sitting by her window.

Lidushka brought her a crumb of bread.

“Tell your grandmother I’m grateful for her help.”

The little frog ate the crumb, croaked, and hopped away toward the river.

Since then, Lidushka often saw white doves above the water. And the red ribbons near the mill no longer lured anyone into the depths.

The old people still warned the children:

“Be careful near deep water. Don’t lean too far over the bank, or reach on your own for flowers or ribbons floating over deep places. Admire the river without testing its strength.”

And in the village they began to repeat other words of Lidushka:

“Holding someone by force is not friendship. Open the door and let them be free. If a friend wants to stay, they will choose to stay.”

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨