It was a calm evening. Soft winds blew through the tall grass. A distant call of the owl only made the stillness more tranquil.
Nature flourished in every way possible in this kingdom.
Green was everywhere – trees stood strong and mighty, herbs and plants of all kinds and colors. Birds and animals lived happily and harmoniously. Even the people seemed kinder than most in the world. These people knew hardships and trials and faced a few wars, yet they lived and loved and hoped for the best.
This particular village was known for its history. Once, a very long time ago, this village was dark, poor and unfortunate in every way possible. Hunger stroke the weak, sickness did the rest, leaving among the living only those who are strong enough to survive in the very worst conditions.
In that dreadful time the village was called Deep Sorrow. No one remembered how it came to that name, yet everyone knew that it defines the place completely.
But sometimes strange things happen in the world and such a strange thing happened to the villagers once.
It was an evening too. Also quiet and tranquil, even though not as joyful as many would prefer.
A traveler appeared on the road, walking steadily and somewhat joyfully, singing a merry song. He approached the village – a sorry view for a sore eye of the weary traveler. Yet this one was smiling and optimistic.
“Good day, good people!” the traveler greeted the only two men, sitting in the gutter by the road. “Might I ask where I can find a tavern to fill my empty stomach?”
“There’s nothing here for you lad.” Answered one of the men. “If you’re not looking for the dead or the sickly.”
“All that bad, huh?” the traveler scratched his nose and sighed. “Well then I best be off on my way. Have a good day!”
He followed the road leading through the little village, continuing his song, yet this time with his voice down, rather murmuring the tune to himself.
As he was passing a big house, a window opened and a woman looked out.
“You seem way off the main roads, traveler. Our little village is no place for visits.” She said to him.
The man stopped at the window and smiled to her.
“Have a good day, miss. Can you tell me where to find a tavern to rest and eat before continuing my way?”
“Our tavern’s closed.” The woman said. “Everybody’s dead. The sickness killed most of us. Those left are only slowly dying.”
“I’m sure such strong people will live through this turmoil.” The traveler said, looking around at the dark windows of abandoned homes, the dead gardens, the empty horse stalls and corrals.
The woman looked up at the gathering cloud and the darkening skies.
“I’ll tell you what, traveler… Come on in. Rest by the fire. I don’t have much, but I’ll share with you some food and water. There’s a storm coming and there is no way you will reach any shelter today. Stay at my home, dine at my table. And know that not all people of Deep Sorrow are unwelcome and dreary.”
“You have my deepest gratitude, miss.” The traveler bowed and the woman laughed at him.
“I’m no miss, traveler. Name’s Meg. Come on in.” she said, opening the door to him.
The traveler received a simple meal, a mug of water and a warm evening by the fire. There were jokes and stories told before both of them retired to bed – the woman in her own, and the traveler lying on the floor by the fireplace.
When morning came, the woman woke up to her guest already on her feet and about her small household. He already made a big pile of firewood, brought in some herbs and flowers, prepared some tea and made a simple breakfast.
“Such a beautiful morning deserves a nice cup of tea and some eggs for breakfast.” Said the traveler with a smile.
They came out the house to drink their tea, when the traveler smiled again and looked at his hostess.
“Mark my words – everything will be all right” he said.
And he started singing.
His simple song soothed the souls of those who heard it, lifted their spirits and gave them hope for a new day and something good ahead.
As the traveler left, he heard other people’s voices join his song.
After that day everything changed. Fields filled with green, fruits and vegetables started growing plentifully on the soil people long thought dead.
Little by little the village came alive and people soon traveled there and found a new home on the lands that were once called cursed.
Now it was no longer a dead village. No more hungry families. No more sickness.
And there was no more reason to call this joyful place Deep Sorrow. That is why, honoring the story of the traveler who gave them hope with a simple song, people called the village Sorrow’s song.