Once upon a time, in a little village by the river, lived a young girl. Her parents owned a farm, so she spent her days waking before sunrise, collecting eggs from the chicken coop, feeding the pigs, and milking the cow, Miss Georgina. Her parents loved her very much, and always told her that she could do anything she set her mind to.
When the girl was almost eleven, her aunt and cousin visited them from the city. Her cousin was only a year and a half older than her, but he knew more than she thought she would ever know. He was a schoolboy, and spent his days learning about mathematics and astronomy and literature and history. He showed her his tower of books one day, and her mouth fell open in shock. "You've read all of these?" she asked, amazed.
"Yep. Twice," her cousin said proudly.
"Can you teach me?" she pleaded.
"To read?" he laughed.
"Yes! Please!"
After some consideration, he finally agreed. "Fine. But only if you give me your desserts until I leave."
"Deal."
The girl learned slowly at first, reciting and drawing each letter of the alphabet. Soon, though, she was learning faster. She would stay up extra late after all her chores were done and listen to her cousin tell her about the sounds each letter made and how to put them together to make words. Within only a short month, she could read two-, three-, and four-letter words all by herself!
"Marie!" her mother yelled one morning from the kitchen. The girl yawned in her bed and rolled over. "Marie!" she heard again. Finally her mother stomped up the stairs and stood over her sleeping daughter, trying to wake her. "Marie! The sun has already risen! Are you feeling well?"
"What?" the girl asked sleepily. "Oh no! Did I oversleep?"
"Do you have a fever?" asked her concerned mother as she placed the back of her hand against the girl's forehead.
"No, mother, I'm fine. I'll get right to work!" said the girl as she sprung out of bed and put on her shoes.
"Marie!" her mother said again. "You slept in your work clothes! Why on earth didn't you change before bed?"
The girl looked at her arms and legs, covered in crusty mud and grass stains. "I didn't go to bed until quite late. I must have forgotten to change clothes."
"What were you doing so late in the night?"
"I was reading!" The girl suddenly became very excited. "Cousin gave me this storybook full of tales of romance and danger and kingdoms and monsters. I'm almost halfway through!"
"You know how to read?"
"Cousin taught me."
Her mother was silent for a moment. She put her hand on her hip, then her other hand on her other hip, then pursed her lips and clicked her tongue. "Is it hard?" she finally whispered.
The girl smiled. "Only at the beginning. I'll teach you if you like."
Her mother considered it, then shook her head. "Maybe another time. You need to tend to your chores! Go on, now!" The girl scurried off to the barn.
Later that evening, when the girl was brushing Georgina, she had a thought. She peeked over her shoulder to make sure no one else was in the barn before clearing her throat. "Once upon a time," she whispered, "there was a clumsy mountain goat. He lived in a cave with his family, who were all quick and agile. But he almost never left the safety of the cave because he was afraid that he might slip on a rock or stumble over a crack and fall to his death." The cow flicked her tail, but the girl kept brushing, engrossed in the story forming in her mind. "He spent his time reading books of knights and kings and dragons, and dreamed of becoming a musician in the king's court down in the valley. He played the bagpipes," she added. "But the valley was far, and the mountain was steep, and he was a clumsy little goat. One day, on his birthday actually, his mother and father told him they were going down to the valley to get him a very special birthday surprise. He was excited, and waited patiently in the cave for them to return. But night fell, and they still weren't back. Hours passed, and the little clumsy goat was growing nervous. Finally, at midnight, he peeked his head out of the cave. He called their names, but they didn't call back. He told himself to be brave and took a deep breath, and left the cave. He stumbled and tripped, but he made it safely to the valley by the first light of morning. When he still didn't see his parents, he decided to go to the king for help. He walked into the castle, hearing his little feet click on the flat and easy-to-walk-on stone floor, and made his way to the throne room. Just as the first light of day shone through the windows, he entered the throne room to see the king, queen, and his parents waiting for him with a brand new set of bagpipes. The king asked him to stay in the castle and play the bagpipes for him whenever pleased, and invited the goat's parents to all their grand meals and festivals. And they all lived happily ever after. The end."
Miss Georgina mooed loudly in applause and the girl giggled. She kissed the cow goodnight, and walked back to the house. She stayed up even later than she had the previous night, writing down the story of the clumsy goat in a little journal her cousin had given her in which to practice her alphabet.
The next morning, she overslept again.
"What am I going to do with you?" her mother asked after finally waking her up.
The girl blinked and yawned, then remembered the clumsy goat story. "Mother!" she squealed. "I wrote my own story!"
"You did? About what?"
"A clumsy mountain goat who plays the bagpipes. After I teach you how to read, I'll let you read it!"
"That sounds wonderful, sweetheart. I'm very proud of you. Now get on with your chores."
This cycle went on for a week, and the girl wrote down a new story every day. Finally, her father and mother sat the girl down one night to talk.
"Maria," said her father, "what is it you love most in this world?"
"You and Mother, of course," said the girl.
"That's not what I mean. I mean what do you love most to do? How would you want to spend your day if you had the whole day to do whatever you wanted?"
The girl was a bit confused at first, but then she understood. "I'd want to read and write stories!"
The girl's mother and father looked at each other, then back at her. "We want you to be happy, sweetheart," said her mother. "So, if you really truly want to read and write all day, we'll have to hire a farmhand to do your chores. But, to pay a farmhand, we'll need to sell Georgina."
The girl's eyed filled with tears. "No!" she wailed. "We can't sell her! She's my friend!"
"We would make sure she went to a good home with nice people," said her father.
"You'd be able to visit," said her mother.
The girl wiped her eyes and wondered what it would be like not to hear Georgina's moo anymore. She also wondered what it would be like to have all the time in the day to spend reading and writing stories instead of doing chores.
"You can think about it," said her father. "Tonight, just get some rest and we can talk about it more in the morning."
The girl did not go to her bedroom, however. She went straight to the barn and hugged Georgina around the neck. "I don't know what to do," she whispered to the cow.
"Marie?" said the voice of her cousin. He walked out of one of the stalls and waved to her.
"What are you doing here so late?" the girl asked, wiping her nose.
Her cousin looked embarrassed. "I thought I'd collect some eggs for breakfast."
The girl giggled. "You don't collect eggs at night, silly. You collect them first thing in the morning."
"Oh..." said her cousin. "Could you teach me?"
"How to collect eggs?" the girl asked.
"How to do it all. How to work on a farm."
"I suppose it would only be fair," said the girl.
The next days consisted of the girl teaching her cousin the ways of the farm. They fed the pigs and milked the cow and collected eggs early in the morning.
"Can I tell you something, Marie?" asked her cousin one afternoon.
"Of course."
"I don't want to go to school anymore. I don't like reading. It's make me sleepy."
"Even the fairy tales?"
"Yes. Even the fairy tales. I hate sitting still all day and wearing those horrid, uncomfortable shoes. I want to stay here, I want to learn how to manage a farm. It's much more exciting than memorizing multiplication tables."
The girl had an idea.
You can probably guess what happened next. The girl's cousin became the farmhand, and since he was family—and only twelve—they didn't have to sell Georgina in order to pay him. Marie got to spend her days reading and writing stories, and helping out on the farm when she was needed. Her stories became famous throughout the village, and she even started putting on shows with actors and props and even music. When she was all grown up, she moved to the city and published her stories in a long anthology titled "The Clumsy Little Goat." She wrote about farms and chickens and Georgina, but mostly she wrote about the importance and love of family, for she knew that without hers, she would have never been able to pursue her passion.
