The Girl and the Mermaid

 

(This is a story I wrote in July 2000)

Everyone knows you can hear the roar of the waves when you hold a seashell to your ear.
Even if you're many miles away from the ocean, you still have the sensation of standing right there
at the shores of the great waters.
However, it is little known that you can also hear the mermaids singing when you have the peace to listen
to the waves carefully. There are not many who have heard these strange but entrancing songs,
and there are many who will tell you it is all just an illusion.
It is said that there was once a young girl who could hear the mermaids.
This young girl lived in a little house not far from the shores of the great ocean.
She was alone with her father there because her mother had died soon after her birth.
This part of the country was scarcely populated, it was many miles to walk in any direction to meet
a neighbour. In fact, the only times the two of them would see other people was on Sundays when
they walked the long journey to Mass in a small village many miles away. Often enough, though,
heavy storms kept them safely at home, as it would have been too dangerous to embark on the weekly
mission to worship God.
Father and daughter lived a very secluded life. Life was even more lonesome for the girl.
When the weather allowed, her father went out to sea to catch fish. On such days he would be gone
from early morning till late in the evening. The daughter had enough to do for minding the
house, yet still there were many hours for her to dwell on her sad thoughts.
The elders of the village remember that her father had once been a kinder man, always friendly, helpful and generous, although he was very poor. He was known for his jovial laugh which only became greater after his marriage to a shy pretty woman from a distant village. He was indeed a jolly fellow more than ever
before. However, after the birth of his daughter and the premature death of his beloved wife, he changed
completely. He avoided the company of his neighbours and declined the most generous invitations.
He didn't attend the many village festivities anymore and he even lost interest in conversations with
anyone. He was only seen at the Sunday masses and on rare occasions when he had business to do
in the village. He did drop in at the pub, but only to drink a solitary pint in the remotest booth
before traveling homeward. Many a rumour circulated about his daughter, as she never talked
to anyone.
The girl's father had forbidden her any conversation with strangers.
There were not many who could describe the appearance of her face since her father forced her to
wear a large scarf which completely shrouded her face. He always complained, "I had such a
beautiful wife, but now God has punished me to live in misery with the ugliest of daughters."
Those few who claim to have seen the face of the girl, and it was a rare glance at that, agree with
what the father said.
Yes, the girl lived a miserable life. Her father treated her very badly. In her small room he had put
a large mirror, and every day he forced her to look into it saying,
"Look, how God has punished you and me, you are the ugliest girl in the world!" There hardly was
a day, when she didn't suffer under his wrath. She was compelled to work hard, minding the house
and the small garden and preparing their daily meals which always consisted of a thin soup, fish
and potatoes. Any deviation from this diet, even if only in its taste, was severely punished, just as
anything else would be punished which brought up the discontent of her father. The dropping of a
spoon, a bed not meticulously made, the floor not swept clean enough, even a sneeze too loud,
would make him shout in anger. However, he never beat his child, his only penalty for breaking
any of the inconceivable rules of his house was to lock the girl into her room until the next day. She
dreaded these fits, especially as he always locked her up with the same hurtful words, "This is the
punishment for your ugliness!"
The happiest moments the young girl had were those few hours when the weather was mild, her
father was off to sea and her chores were done early in the day. These moments were rare enough,
but when it was in any way possible, she would go down to the nearby beach to listen to the roar of
the waves and to cry silently about her pitiful fate.
Once in a while the roaring tide became so loud that she couldn't hear her own sobbing anymore.
When this happened she would stop crying and gradually set her attention to the tremendous
noise of the restless sea. And when she listened very intently, she could hear a distant melody. It
sounded strange and was unlike anything she had heard before, but the remote music was so
entrancing that she spent hours listening. Of course she never told her father about this strange
phenomenon, it would only have been a new occasion for him to punish her. He didn't even know
about her visits to the beach. The girl kept her little secret to herself and looked forward to the next
time she could get away from the house and listen to the sea singing. Soon she learned how to
discern the music much more easily from the roaring noise of the tide and finally she was able to
hear it whenever she visited the beach.
Although the ocean music had at first kept her thoughts far from her sorrows, its very beauty made
her more and more sad and she started to cry again more bitterly. The louder she cried the more
clearly did the music resound in her ears, until one day she suddenly heard a voice, "Little girl, why
are you crying?" The girl was immediately frightened, and after the first moment of shock, she looked fearfully in the direction from where the voice had come. At first she couldn't believe
her eyes at what she saw. It was the most beautiful woman she had ever laid eyes upon.
The woman had long red hair, so long that it easily covered her naked body to the waist. The face
had completely smooth features, the eyes glowed in a most friendly blue and the woman was
smiling in a benevolent and soothing way. "Little girl, why are you crying?" she repeated her
question. The girl still stood there in awe as she noticed that below the waist, the woman had the
body of a fish. She couldn't believe her eyes, but it was very clear that it was a creature half woman
and half fish lying in the spray before her. The girl shyly asked in what seemed a whisper, "Who
are you?" The woman smiled even friendlier and replied, "I am what you people of the land call a
mermaid." The girl had never heard that word before, although she understood it must be
something very rare and unusual. "I don't know what a mermaid is," she said, more meant as a
question than as a statement. The mermaid answered that it would take too long to explain and that
she couldn't stay too long outside of the waters and then she asked once again, "Please, little girl,
pray tell me, why do you cry so much?" Reluctantly, the girl told the mermaid about her life, that
she was ashamed of being so ugly and making her father's life so miserable and that she didn't know
what to do to make her father and herself happier. As the mermaid answered the girl saw a little
tear in the eye of the beautiful face, a tear as precious as a little pearl, "My dear child of the land,
don't you know that beauty is in the eye of the beholder? You must find someone who loves you
and then you will be beautiful." The girl stood there in disbelief, "I don't know about that. I am
most surely not as beautiful as you are!" "Oh, dear child, I am not beautiful at all. Among the
creatures of the sea I am cursed and all avoid me as I am clearly a deformed being in this world."
The girl disagreed vehemently, but the mermaid wouldn't listen, she told her, "My dear child, I must
go now, but do please listen to what I have to say. You must find someone who loves you. To do so
you must show your face." With these words the mermaid disappeared into the waves, and there
was no melody to be heard anymore.
The girl stood there in awe. She had wanted to ask more, but now it was too late. How could she
show anyone her terrible face? The only person in the world who knew what she looked like was
her father who despised her ugliness. Of course it was impossible to tell him about her new
experience.
The next three weeks the land was tormented by heavy storms. They couldn't go to the Sunday
masses, the weather was so stormy that it was impossible to leave the house, except for short
chores. In the fourth week the heavy rains turned into a soft drizzle and the winds calmed down to
a fresh breeze. Finally, it was time to attend Sunday mass again, so her father led her to the mirror,
"Look at your ugliness. You know very well, why I must hide your face." With these words he
veiled her face with the scarf and off they went for their long journey to the village.
During the Mass father and daughter always seated themselves in the last pew in order not to be
noticed by the other members of the parish. There they attended the ceremony, and the girl drifted
in thought back to her encounter with the mermaid. As the priest gave his homily she was only able
to perceive the words, "beauty is in the eye of the beholder," repeated again and again, as if this
were the priest's message.
A boy in the aisle in front of her had been staring at her every so often, and the girl remembered the
advice, "You must show your face." Almost as if driven to do so, she slightly lifted her veil
revealing her profile just as the boy once again glanced in her direction.
Suddenly, the boy made a gasp in shock and turned his head away in disgust. The girl's father had
also noticed the incident and grunted in disapproval. Before the mass had even ended he pulled his
daughter out of the church and hurried her home all along the way screaming at her whether she
had gone out of her mind.
At home he pushed her into her room, locked the door and only reopened it again on the evening of
the next day.
The girl, however, had cried all through the journey home and all through the time she was in her
domestic prison. It had been obvious that the boy found her ugly. Her father had been right all along, she thought sorrowfully to herself.
It was about a week after the church incident, her father had probably already forgotten about
it. The girl found time to visit the beach again. As always she cried to the waves, and as usual,
the oceanic melody sang to her. The girl cried harder and harder, until she was interrupted, "Dear
child of the land, why are you crying?" The girl once again saw the mermaid, as beautiful as ever,
although she gave the impression that she was a bit tired.
"Oh, my dear mermaid," the girl replied, "I did as you told me," and she reported about what had
happened. The girl noticed a tear, as precious as a pearl, in each eye of the mermaid, while she
spoke, "My dear child, you must learn to understand. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. In order
to find someone who loves you, you must show your face." But the girl couldn't understand, "My
dear mermaid, I can't be like you. You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen in my life."
"No, I am not," the mermaid replied, almost in pain. "Do as I told you." and once again she
disappeared so swiftly into the waves as if she were a wave herself.
Again the girl didn't know what to think of the strange advice she had been given and as always
kept it as a secret to herself. Many weeks of hard work and seclusion due to the heavy weather
passed by, before the small family would again go to the village to attend the Sunday mass. Like
always her father forced his daughter to look into the mirror and this time he very gravely urged her
to hide her ugliness and he fastened the veil even tighter. "It would be a sin to God to show
your face in public," he declared and with these words they went off to the village.
That day they were caught up in a heavy storm and it was a wearisome journey to reach the church
in time. The girl only felt secure, when they finally took their place in their usual pew, the heavy
rains pounding like fists against the roof of the church and the winds howling as loud as sirens. All
through mass the steady heavy raging storm was shouting to the girl, "Beauty is in the eye of the
beholder," and every time the girl looked up she noticed someone staring at her. More and more she
had the impression that everyone was looking at her as she remembered the mermaid's words, "you
must show your face!"
Finally, as the storm was thundering at its fiercest and the whole parish community seemed to stare
at her unabashedly, she couldn't resist the urge anymore and in a sudden swift move she removed
her veil. At the same moment a heavy streak of lightning lit up the church with a tremendous pound
shaking the whole building. The parish community shrieked in fear of the storm and in disgust at
the girl's undisguised face as her father let out a scream of outlandish rage. For the first and last
time ever he slapped her across the face and drove her from the church with his scornful words.
"You stupid ugly child! What has happened to your mind!" he shouted at her. The girl fought off
his painful grip and exclaimed, "the mermaid told me to do it!" and she ran off. Her father stood
there dumbstruck and completely incapable of responding. Only after he was surrounded by the
shocked villagers did he find his voice again, "my daughter has gone out of her mind!" He ran off
after his child with the whole village behind him.
The girl did not know where to go to. She was running in direction of her home, but she knew she
never wanted to enter that house again. Completely unaware of the strain of running such a distance
in an angry storm, she never halted or slowed her speed, until she reached the only place she could
imagine to flee to, the beach. The waves were towering higher than ever before, tearing down onto
the beach like avalanches. Their roaring drowned out any other sound, even that of the thundering
storm. This time the girl didn't hear the wonderful melody she had become so acquainted with, but
now she heard the music of a tremendous orchestra screaming a monumental symphony of the
almighty sea. The girl was crying and crying, in vain trying to out scream the symphony.
"My dear child of the land, why are you crying again?" she heard the mermaid's voice. There she
was, once again, laying on the sand of the tormented beach, more beautiful than ever. This time
she didn't seem tired, she very obviously made the impression of being exhausted. The girl cried, "I
did as you told me! Don't tell me again that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. You are beautiful, I
am ugly!" And she went on with the story of what had just happened in the church. As the
mermaid listened tears began to fill her eyes and one after the other they dropped and dropped and
dropped, ever rapidly, together shaping the most precious pearl chain in the world. Finally, the
mermaid was crying bitterly, holding her hands to her face. In her sobs the girl could hear her
words, "Don't you see, my dearest pretty child, don't you see that I love you!"
Many legends are told about what had happened there at the beach in that terrible storm. Some say
the girl was swallowed by a gigantic wave. Others say it was as if the girl were a wave herself. Still
others decline having ever seen anything but the angry tide. The truth is that the girl's scarf that had
always hidden her face was found lying on the beach, soaked and torn and so dirty that it was at
first not recognized as being hers. Two days later, a fishing boat that had been caught by the
evil storm and miraculously survived the ocean's attacks for three days, arrived safely home to the
village. The fishermen brought with them the body of a drowned girl they had found floating in the
sea after the storm had calmed down. As the body was wearing the Sunday dress of the missing girl
the father was fetched to confirm the corpse's identity. He was the only person in the world who
knew what his daughter looked like.
The villagers to this day say that the poor dead girl had the most beautiful face and that she had a
content smile as if she were in perfect rest. When the father saw the face, he said, "This is most
obviously not my daughter! It is impossible. She is someone else's daughter." So, as his daughter's
body was never found, her torn scarf was buried in unholy earth without a cross or a stone, because
the priest refused to give her a burial after the incident in the church. The unknown girl's body,
however, was buried in the churchyard. And to this day you can see the cross on her grave and the
inscription, "The Beauty From the Sea."