How the Monkey Came to Be

By her tenth trip to the well, the girl's shoulders were worn out.

She set the two buckets down beside the well and looked at the deep water trembling below. From the rich man's house came the voices and laughter of a death anniversary feast. The trays of food were laid out and many relatives had come. Still she went trip after trip, carrying water back to a kitchen that never stopped working.

The girl had worked as a servant in the rich man's household for a long time. She has no name in the story. The old tellers say only that she worked all day long, ate little, and wore plain clothes. That day everyone was busy with the feast and its fragrant dishes. Her footsteps went on and on, from the yard to the well, and from the well back to the yard.

She carried load after load. On the tenth, she could not go on right away.

She sat down at the edge of the well and buried her face in her hands. All her weariness and hurt gathered together and fell as quiet tears.

Just then, an old man came walking from far off. He looked worn out, as if he had traveled a long road. He stopped by the well and asked the girl for a mouthful of water.

Hearing someone, she quickly wiped her tears. Tired as she was, she stood up and let the bucket down into the well. The rope slid through her hands, the bucket touched the water, and slowly it filled. She drew it up and poured the old man some water to drink.

When he had finished, he said that he was hungry.

The girl remembered her own share of rice, still waiting in the house. It was only a little scorched rice from the bottom of the pot. Yet it was her whole meal, still uneaten after so many trips.

She asked the old man to sit and wait, then lifted the carrying pole onto her shoulder again. She took the water home, then fetched her share of rice to bring with her.

Back at the well, she held the small bowl out to the old man. "This is my own share," she said. "It is only scorched rice, but please eat it and ease your hunger."

The old man took it and ate every bit of the rice she had given up. The bowl was empty, and she still had eaten nothing. Then he asked why she had been crying a little while before.

The girl lowered her eyes and hesitated.

The old man told her that he was the Buddha. He asked whether she had a wish.

The girl named only one small wish. She asked that her looks might change a little.

The Buddha pointed down into the well. "Wade into the water," he told her. "Strange flowers grow in this well. Touch your lips to whichever flower you find beautiful, and what you hope for will come true."

The girl stepped down into the well.

The cool water wrapped around her tired legs. The closer she came, the more clearly she could see the flowers floating on the water. Red flowers and white flowers lay right before her eyes.

She touched her lips only to a few white flowers.

When the girl stepped onto the bank, her looks had changed. The plain clothes she wore had turned into fine ones too.

She shouldered her load once more and went home.

The moment she walked into the yard, the rich man and his relatives were astonished. No one recognized the girl who had been carrying water a little earlier. They stared at her face and her clothes, then pressed her to tell them what had happened.

The girl told them exactly what she had just been through. She told of the old man by the well, the mouthful of water, the bowl of scorched rice, and the flowers beneath the water.

Hearing this, the rich man and his relatives rushed out to the well at once. They carried sticky rice and meat, and hurried toward the old man.

The old man was still sitting in the same place.

As soon as they saw him, they spread out the sticky rice and meat and pressed it on him. Then they begged him to help them.

The Buddha simply pointed down into the well and told them what he had told the girl.

One after another, the whole party stepped down.

Under the water, red flowers and white flowers still bloomed side by side. Every one of them thought red was the beautiful color. So they searched out the red flowers and touched their lips to as many as they could.

Then, one by one, they climbed out onto the bank.

The first of them had barely risen from the water when a rustling spread all over their body. Hair grew very fast. Behind them a tail appeared and gave a small flick, and the water splashed with a slap. Each one who came after looked at the one in front, and saw that they were changing too. In a moment, the whole party was covered in hair and had tails.

The people carrying water nearby saw it and took fright. The rich man and his relatives were just as frightened. They turned and ran without stopping, deep into the forest.

From then on they stayed in the forest, looking for fruit to eat. They clung to branches and swung from the low ones up to the high ones, then vanished behind the leaves.

Later, people who went up into the forest for firewood sometimes saw hairy shapes swinging through the branches. Whenever the shapes saw a person in the distance, they grabbed a branch and slipped quickly into the leaves. People called them monkeys.

That, an old Vietnamese tale says, is how the monkey came to be.

In the forest, the leaves stirred. A tail flickered behind a trunk and was gone, up to a high branch. Then another shape swung after it, so fast that a woodcutter only had time to hear the branches shake among the green leaves.