Folk Tales/Crossing The Bridge

Crossing The Bridge appeared as a text based story on the Purple Moon Place website. It was featured on Nicole's secret pouch page. On the link to the story Nicole says, "This is an interesting story about balance."

The Story
In the Andes mountains of Peru, where the condor soars on windswept wings, there once stood a narrow bridge. It was barely wide enough for one person – or one person leading a llama or burro – to walk. It was made of wood, with rope railings for your hands, if you were lucky enough to have your hands free.

There was always a wind on the bridge, gusting and blowing along the narrow river gorge beneath it. Even a little wind made the bridge sway and the railings creak. It made you want to cross very fast. But on this day, the wind was especially strong. The bridge danced back and forth, and the wind whistled like a bird through the railings.

When Luisa arrived, there was a line of people waiting to cross over. Children were put into slings on their mother’s backs and tied on tightly. Old people bent themselves double and clung to the rails like monkeys. Burros kicked and dug in their hooves, refusing to go.

“Only a fool would cross that bridge today,” said a farmer, turning back down the trail. “My vegetables can wait until tomorrow.”

“But I must get to my grandmother’s house today,” said Luisa. “She’s sick and I’m bringing her medicine and soup and bread and blankets. She cannot wait another day. What should I do?”

“Get out of my way, for one thing,” said a loud voice. Luisa looked behind her and saw a tall man with a llama. He had several hats piled on top of his head, and the llama was loaded down with things – flowers and vases and boxes and bundles of hay.

“All of you worry too much,” he said. “I’m not wasting a market day because of a little wind!”

“Your pack looks very heavy,” said Luisa, but he ignored her.

With big strides the man walked onto the bridge, leading the llama behind him. Whoosh! The wind pushed him to the right. Swoosh! The wind pulled him to the left. Wham! The wind lifted every hat off his head and sent them spinning into the gorge. The flowers flew from the llama’s back. The bridge swung from side to side and the llama was forced to its knees by the heavy boxes and vases. They slid from their ropes and clattered off the bridge, disappearing into the gorge below. Before he was halfway across, the merchant had lost almost all his wares. The llama refused to go any farther and started spitting between its front teeth. The unfortunate merchant was forced to turn back.

Luisa was dismayed. “Such a strong man and such a large llama! How will I ever make it across if they can’t?”

Then she saw a boy approach the bridge. He was carrying two crates full of chickens, one on top of the other.

“My father will be angry if I do not sell these chickens,” he said. “I must try and cross today.”

“Your crates are very high,” said Luisa, but the boy ignored her.

“I will run across very fast,” he said.

So the boy launched himself at the bridge and started running as fast as he could. Whish! The wind pushed him forward. Zoom! The wind pushed him backward. Boom! Because the crates were so high, the boy fell onto the bridge. His crates broke open and all the chickens fluttered out of them. Luisa could see some white hens flying down the gorge, cackling as they went. The boy crawled around on his knees, catching chicks and putting them in his poncho.

“Such a fast boy, but he couldn’t outrun the wind! How will I get across if he can’t?”

Soon it was her turn. Luisa thought and thought. “Too heavy, too high, too fast,” she said to herself. “None of those things worked…”

Then Luisa set the box of blankets and her grandmother’s medicine on the grass near the beginning of the bridge. She put the jug of soup in her right hand and the loaf of bread in her left. She held them out on each side of her so that her arms were balanced. Then slowly, carefully, she walked across the bridge.

Whish! The wind pushed, but Luisa was not carrying anything heavy. Hiss! The wind pulled, but Luisa was not carrying anything high. Bam! The bridge swayed, but Luisa was perfectly balanced and did not lose her footing. She crossed the bridge with everything safe. Then she walked back across the bridge, picked up the blankets and medicine, and carried them safely across, too.

That night, Luisa was snug and warm inside her grandmother’s house. Soup was bubbling on the hearth, blankets were on the bed, and the medicine was already making her grandmother feel better.

But outside, Luisa was sure she heard the distant sound of chickens cackling on the wind.