Once there was a fisherman and his wife who lived in a tiny, crooked hut by the sea. Every day the fisherman took his rod and line and sat by the water, waiting patiently for a fish to bite. One day, as he stared into the clear waves, his float suddenly dipped and his line pulled tight. When he drew it up, a big flounder hung on the hook. To his surprise, the fish began to speak. Dear fisherman, said the flounder, please let me go. I am really an enchanted prince, not an ordinary fish. I would not taste good if you cooked me. Put me back, and let me swim away. The fisherman was gentle and kind. If you can talk, he said, I would much rather let you go. And he carefully lowered the flounder back into the sea and watched it swim down, down into the deep water.
That evening he went home to his wife. Did you catch nothing at all today, she asked. I did catch a flounder, he answered, but it told me it was an enchanted prince, so I let it go. And did you not wish for anything, cried his wife. We live in this tiny hut, always cold and cramped. You could have asked for a little cottage. Go back and call the fish. Maybe he will help us. The fisherman did not like to trouble the flounder, but at last he went. When he reached the shore, the water looked a bit green and yellow, not so clear as before. Still, he stood there and called softly, O man, O man, if man you be, dear flounder, flounder in the sea, my wife has wishes now, you see. The flounder swam up and asked, What does your wife want. The fisherman said shyly, My wife is unhappy in our little hut. She would like a snug cottage.
Go home, said the flounder kindly. She has it already. The fisherman went back and found, in place of their old hut, a neat little cottage with white walls, a sunny window, and a tidy yard with hens and a small garden. His wife sat on a bench outside, smiling. Look, she said, is this not much nicer. Yes, said the fisherman, if this can last we shall be happy. For a while they were content. But after some days the wife began to frown. This cottage is too small, she said. The yard and garden are tiny. Go back to your fish and ask for a big stone house, a real castle. Oh, dear wife, said the fisherman, the cottage is good enough. What do we need a castle for. We need one, she answered firmly. The fish can give it to us. The fisherman felt it was not quite right to keep asking, yet he walked to the sea again.
This time the water was darker and rougher, streaked with grey and purple. He called, O man, O man, if man you be, dear flounder, flounder in the sea, my wife has wishes now, you see. The flounder rose and asked, What does she want now. She would like a stone castle, said the fisherman softly. Go home, said the flounder. She is already standing before it. And so it was. Their cottage had become a large castle with tall towers, marble floors, bright chandeliers, and servants who set fine food on shining tables. Behind it lay a vast garden filled with flowers, fruit trees, and gentle animals. Is this not beautiful, cried the wife. Yes, said the fisherman, if it would only stay like this we could be happy. We will see, she replied. Early one morning she woke and looked over the wide land from her high window.
Husband, she said, just think how it would be if we ruled over all this. Go to your fish and ask that I may be queen. I do not want to be king or queen, said the fisherman. What should we do with such power. If you do not want it, I do, she said. Go anyway. So he went once more, feeling very uneasy. The sea was now dark grey, rolling far onto the shore, and it smelled wild and stormy. He called softly, O man, O man, if man you be, dear flounder, flounder in the sea, my wife has wishes now, you see. The flounder came and asked, What does she want now. She wishes to be queen, said the fisherman. Go home, said the flounder. She is queen already. At home the fisherman found a gleaming palace with towers and gates, and guards with drums and trumpets. Inside, his wife sat on a golden throne with a crown upon her head, while people bowed before her.
So, wife, he said quietly, now you are queen. Yes, she answered, now I am queen. Surely, he said, there is nothing more to wish for. But after a little while she became restless again. Being queen is not enough, she said. Go and ask the flounder to make me ruler over even more. Her wishes grew bigger and bigger, like waves in a storm. Each time the fisherman went to the sea, the water grew darker, rougher, and more troubled. The wind blew harder, and the clouds raced across the sky. At last his wife wished for the greatest power of all: she wanted to command the sun and moon. Husband, she cried, I cannot rest until I can order the sun and moon to rise when I wish. Go to your fish and tell him so. The fisherman was truly afraid. Dear wife, he said, the flounder has given us so much already. We should be grateful and let the sun and moon shine as they are.
But she would not listen. So once more he went to the sea. Now a terrible storm had risen. The sky was almost black, the waves leapt like mountains, and the wind howled. Still he called, O man, O man, if man you be, dear flounder, flounder in the sea, my wife has wishes now, you see. The flounder came and asked, What does she want now. She wishes to command the sun and moon, said the fisherman sadly. Go home, said the flounder in a steady voice. You will find her in the little hut. When the fisherman returned, the grand palace and gardens were gone. There on the sand stood the same small, crooked hut they had lived in at the beginning, and inside sat his wife. All their grand rooms and crowns and towers had vanished like foam on the waves. For a long time they were very quiet.
Then, slowly, they learned to be thankful for their little hut by the sea, for simple food, for each other, and for calm days when the sea was blue and the wind was gentle. And after that, whenever the fisherman looked at the water, he remembered that too many wishes can blow away even the best of gifts, but a grateful heart can make even the smallest home feel rich.
