Once there was a
family that lost all its money. They had to sell
their big house and all their fields, but the parents
could not forget they had once been rich, and they
did not let their daughter forget either.
Out
of all their vast wealth, they managed to keep only a
silver ear scoop. It was a slender silver spoon about
five inches long. People put it into their ears to
take out the wax.
"It's
a silly enough thing," her father used to say,
"but from it we'll rebuild the family fortune
somehow."
When
the daughter grew old enough to marry, no rich family
wanted her with only an ear scoop for a dowry, and
her parents thought poor farmers were beneath her.
When
her parents died, no one wanted her. She lived with
other unmarried women in a house that the clan
provided, but it was very crowded. She lived there
many years.
Although
she sewed from sunrise to sunset, she was still very
poor. As she got older, her eyes got worse. Soon, she
could not sew the fine stitches she once had. As a
result, even though she worked just as hard as
before, she got less money. Eventually, she could no
longer pay her share of the food and other costs.
"Why
don't you sell that old ear scoop?" the other
women would ask her.
"It's
all I have from my parents," the old woman said
indignantly.
Because
she had been in the house so long, she had a nice
spot in a corner, but the other women wanted her to
move to another place.
"You
can't pay your share and yet you take up all that
space," the other women complained. They found
dozens of little ways to be unpleasant. Among other
things, she always had to be last -- even to use the
wash water. They would give her only the stringiest
vegetables and the weakest tea. And they always
served her rice scraped from the bottom, which was
hard and crunchy and difficult for the old woman's
teeth to chew.
One
day, a younger cousin caught a mouse. But in catching
it, she had injured one of its feet. "Look at
this thing. It's all white."
"That
proves it must be a superior mouse," the old
woman said. "There's not another like it in the
district."
"The
pest is probably a superior eater too," her
cousin said. "I'm not going to have it nibbling
at our food and clothes."
But
the mouse looked so small and fragile and helpless
that the old woman knew it needed her. She had never
had anyone to love, and, as such things go, her heart
fixed on the mouse. A superior mouse will make a
superior pet, she thought to herself. And out loud
she said, "Give it to me. I'll get rid of
it."
Her
cousin was glad to give the unpleasant task to the
old woman. "Here then."
But
the old woman did not kill the mouse. Instead, she
kept it in a little box. She made a soft nest for it
out of scraps of cloth. She even went hungry so she
could save some of her rice for her superior pet. In
time, the mouse's foot healed.
One
day, though, her cousin found the mouse. "You
old liar. You kept that filthy little thing."
She
was going to throw the box down the well, but the old
woman grabbed it from her. "This is mine. It's a
superior mouse."
"You've
gone too far this time. Beggars can't act like
empresses," her cousin said. She called all the
other women around her. Naturally, they took the
cousin's side.
The
old woman clutched the box to her and looked at the
circle of hard, stern faces. She saw no mercy there.
"I'll go," she said in a small voice.
Her
cousin was surprised. "You've never been away
from the village in your life."
"Then
I'll learn." The old woman packed her few
belongings quickly -- including the ear scoop. Then
she left the house where she had lived all those
years. I should be afraid, she thought to herself,
but I feel years younger. She gave a little skip as
she walked away from her village and up into the
hills.
She
looked for roots and plants for herself and her
mouse. But it was autumn, and the villagers had
already stripped the hills bare looking for fuel.
It
was cold that night, and the old woman kept the box
against her stomach to keep her pet warm. The next
day she wandered even farther. But she still found
nothing to eat.
Finally,
she came to a wall that paralleled the road. Beyond
the wall lay only a few old moss-covered stones and
bushes.
Her
feet ached with the cold and exertion, so she sat
down with her back against the wall. On her lap she
set out the box with her superior mouse. Then she
opened the lid so it could breathe. Then she took out
the silver ear scoop and held it in front of her pet.
"We'll have to sell this. But the money won't
last forever. And then what will we do?"
But
the ear scoop dropped from her nervous fingers and
fell into the weeds.
"Now
I'll have to clean it." As she bent to get it,
the white mouse leaped from her lap and onto the
ground. Snatching up the spoon between its teeth, the
mouse scurried to the wall. Desperately the old woman
tried to grab the mouse, but it vanished through a
crack in the wall.
"You
ungrateful little thief," the old woman said.
"I gave up everything for you. Is this how you
repay me?" Anger made her forget that she was
cold and tired.
She
dug and tore at the crumbling old bricks, and when
her fingers began to bleed, she picked up a sharp
stick instead and began to pry them out. She pulled
brick after brick away from the wall, and still there
was no sign of the furry bandit.
When
she lifted the final brick from the spot, the last of
the sunlight winked off something. Hardly daring to
breathe, she dug into the dirt itself. There, buried
in the earth was a large golden vase. She scrabbled
even deeper and found more objects of gold and
silver. And beneath them was a pile of emeralds and
rubies and pearls. And right in the middle of the
pile of jewels was her silver ear scoop.
The
superior mouse had repaid her kindness before it had
gone on its way. And in certain parts of China, the
farm folk still think that white mice bring good
luck.