The Crane's Thank You

Long, long ago, in a land where snow fell soft and slow, there lived a young man with a kind, kind heart. He had very little, but he treasured even the smallest living thing. On that day, he was walking home from the market.

As he crossed the snow-covered fields, the young man suddenly stopped. A pure white crane was caught in a trap, beating its wings against the cold. Its eyes were full of fear.

Gently, the young man came closer, and ever so carefully he opened the trap and set the crane free. “There now, you’re all right. Off you go.” The crane spread its wings wide and soared high into the sky. It circled once, then dipped its head, as if to say thank you.

That very night, a snowstorm swept in. Someone knocked softly at the young man’s little cottage door. When he opened it, a lovely woman dressed in white stood trembling in the cold.

“I have lost my way,” she said. “Might I stay just for one night?” The young man gladly gave her his room and warmed a bowl of soft porridge for her. His kindness wrapped around her heart like a blanket.

The woman stayed for a few days and helped about the house. Her hands were so careful and clever that the little cottage was always warm and tidy. Before long, the two had come to hold each other dear.

As the winter deepened and times grew hard, the woman said, “Let me weave a beautiful cloth for you. Take it to the market and sell it.” She asked only one thing of him: that he never open the door while she was weaving.

She went into the room and sat at the loom for days and nights. At last the cloth she made came out as fair as sunlight and as white as snow. When it went to the market, people rushed to buy it.

Thanks to the cloth, their life slowly grew comfortable again. But each time she wove, the woman grew thinner and thinner. Worried for her, the young man quietly peeked through the gap in the door.

Inside the room there was no woman at all, but a single white crane. The crane was plucking out its own feathers, one by one, weaving them into that beautiful cloth. Only then did the young man understand everything.

This crane was the very same one he had freed from the trap that day. To repay the kindness she had been given, she had come to him in the shape of a woman. Something warm welled up in the young man’s eyes.

The crane lifted her head gently and looked at him. “So you have seen my heart. Now I must return to the sky.” There was no blame in her voice, only deep and gentle thanks.

As her last gift, the crane left behind one finest length of cloth. Then she threw open the window, spread her snow-white wings, and rose into the sky. She circled once and dipped her head one more time.

The young man kept that beautiful cloth for many, many years. The crane had flown far away, but the warm hearts they had shared stayed always close beside him. And on snowy nights, he would look up at the sky and softly smile.