The River and the Little Fish

A bright river ran through the meadow, and in it lived a silver fish. Every morning the children on the bank waved to her, and the fish leapt out of the water and flashed in the sun, as if she were waving back.

The fish loved her home. Smooth round pebbles lay on the bottom, green waterweed swayed between them, and the water was cool and so clear that you could see every grain of sand. At night the stars shone in the river, and the fish fell asleep to its soft babbling.

One Saturday some people came to the bank for a picnic. They laughed, ate watermelon and played ball, and in the evening they went home. But on the grass they left behind plastic bags, cups and bottles.

In the night the wind rose. It picked up the bags and bottles and blew them straight into the water. A bag snagged on the stones, a cloudy film settled over the bottom, and one bottle kept rolling back and forth with a dull knock, knock. The fish found it hard to breathe. She hid under an old sunken log and stayed there a long time.

In the morning a girl named Aruzhan was walking by. She always said hello to the fish, but today the fish didn't jump.

"Little fish, where are you?" Aruzhan called, crouching at the water's edge.

Then she saw a bottle by the bank, a bag caught in the reeds and cups scattered in the grass. Aruzhan frowned, thought for a moment, and ran home.

Soon she came back with a basket, rubber gloves and a fishing net. Behind her came her friends: a boy from the next street, two girls, and her little brother with a bucket.

"Let's rescue the river!" said Aruzhan. "Everyone picks up whatever they see. And we stay right by the bank, no going in deep."

They took off their shoes and stepped into the water up to their ankles. It was cold and tickled their toes. With the net they fished out the bottle. With a stick they gently lifted the bag off the reeds. With their gloved hands they pulled the cups out of the sand. The boy even found an old saucepan lid, and everyone laughed. How on earth did that get here? And Aruzhan's little brother found a tiny crayfish under a stone. He politely said hello to it and gently let it go again.

Then they walked the whole bank and picked up everything left on the grass. They filled the basket to the top, and two big sacks besides. The sun warmed the wet stones, the air smelled of riverweed and warm grass, and dragonflies darted over the water.

By evening the river had calmed. The cloudy water settled, the current carried off the last of the film, and the river was as clear as glass again. The fish peeped out from under her log, then swam to the very middle and suddenly leapt high, high into the air. She flashed in the sunset like a silver spark.

"She's saying thank you!" shouted Aruzhan's little brother.

"Yes," Aruzhan smiled. "That's how she waves to us."

Ever since, whenever Aruzhan and her friends leave the river, they carry out all their own rubbish and a little of someone else's too. It isn't hard at all when you do it together. And the river remembers. Every morning the silver fish leaps up to meet them.

That night Aruzhan lay in bed and closed her eyes. She thought she could still hear the clear water babbling. And far away in the meadow, the silver fish fell asleep among the smooth pebbles, while the stars rocked gently above her.

Goodnight.