There is a tale told of a fisherman. He and his wife were blessed with a single daughter as lovely as the moon. But when the girl was barely old enough to walk, her mother drowned in the river, leaving the fisherman to raise the child.

The fisherman had a neighbor, a widow with a daughter of her own. This woman took pity on the motherless girl, and would often visit the fisherman's home. There she would cook, and comb the girl's hair, and teach her all manner of skills useful about the house. "I love you as my own daughter," the woman would often say. The fisherman noticed these displays, and thanked the widow. "But I shall not marry you. Stepmothers are a curse to children."

But the widow continued to visit. And as the years passed, the fisherman's daughter noticed that her father was lonely when the widow left, and knew that the widow was lonely back in her own house. "Father, why do you not marry our neighbor?" she asked. "You have nothing to fear. She has been our good and true friend for many years, and loves me as she loves her own daughter."

How could a father refuse his daughter? Soon after, the fisherman and the widow were married, and the girls rejoiced. But the widow had scarcely been mistress of the house for a week when jealousy crept into her heart. The fisherman's daughter, who had once delighted her, now caused her pain: the fisherman endulged her, loving her more than his new wife and stepdaughter. And now that the two girls were as sisters, instead of merely friends, the widow noticed the differences between them: the fisherman's daughter was beautiful, graceful and quick-witted, while her own daughter was unattractive and clumsy. And so, in payment for these slights, the woman forced the fisherman's daughter to do all the work around the house.

The fisherman's daughter grieved. Her lot was no better than a servant's; worse still, she had lost the love of her stepmother and stepsister. But she said nothing to her father, for she knew that he would blame himself for her poor treatment. "This marriage was my doing, I must save myself," she said, trusting that Allah would help her.

And one day, as she gathered up her father's catch to carry home, one of the fish in the net spoke to her. "I beg you, child, throw me back into the water," the little red fish said. "Spare me, and I will love you like a daughter."

The girl stared at the fish in wonder. Who would guess that the world contained such wonders! So the girl threw the fish back into the water.

"You have my thanks," the fish said. "If you are ever in need, call for me, and I will help you as a mother would."

The girl returned home, and gave the three remaining fish to her stepmother. "What happened to the fourth fish, the red one?" her father asked.

"I am sorry, father. It must have fallen back into the river." And how guilty she felt! She, who once lied to her father about nothing, now lied every day about how happy she was with her stepmother and stepsister. And now she had fabricated this story. But how could she tell him about the fish, especially with her stepmother in the same room?

"No matter, it was a tiny fish," the fisherman said, and touched his daughter's hair affectionately.

"I do not care if it was a tiny fish!" the stepmother replied. "If we were supposed to have four fish, then by Allah we shall have four fish. Go back to the river, and do not return until you have found it, or I will curse you."

So the girl returned to the river, though night had fallen. On the bank, she called out to the fish, which in her sadness she thought perhaps she had imagined. But the little red fish appeared, and held out a gold piece to the girl. "Poor child," the fish said. "Have faith. Your patience will be rewarded. Give that gold to your stepmother, and she will not curse you." The girl thanked the fish, and returned home. Sure enough, her stepmother took the gold and spoke no more about the lost fish.

The years passed, and life in the fisherman's house continued as before. And then one day, when the fisherman's daughter and her stepsister were young women, the master of the merchant's guild announced the marriage of his daughter. The stepmother became excited. It was customary for women to gather at the bride's house to celebrate, and watch as her limbs were decorated with henna. On such days, the mothers of sons looked carefully at all the young women, searching for a suitable daughter-in-law.

"And so many people will be there, since the girl's father is such an important man," she breathed in excitement. So she helped her daughter wash and dress in her finest gown, and hurried off to the celebration, leaving the fisherman's daughter to finish her chores.

No sooner had they left than the girl ran down to the river and called for the fish, and related her plight. "Poor child, you shall go to the bride's home," the fish said, and gave the girl a bundle. She was delighted to see a beautiful gown, a fine pearl comb for her hair, and clogs made of gold. "Wear these, and you shall be the most beautiful woman in the room," the fish promised. "Just be certain to return home before your stepmother leaves."

The girl washed and dressed, admiring the gown the fish had given her. It smelled of rose petals, and was made of fine green silk, covered with gold sequins, and she noticed that the thread was all gold. "My stepmother will not know me," the girl breathed, and went off to the bride's celebration.

Once there, all the women marveled at her beauty. "How is it that we have never seen nor heard of this girl?" they asked each other. "Perhaps she is the governor's daughter, or the child of someone far from his native land." But when they asked the girl, she merely shrugged. "I am of no consequence," she said. "Today we celebrate the joy of a bride." And how the women loved that humility: even the bride, who was not so beautiful as the fisherman's daughter, enjoyed the company of this new girl.

The girl's stepmother and stepsister saw her. Indeed, the stepmother even thought that the beauty in the center of the room looked like her stepdaughter. But the clothes were so fine, and her meek stepdaughter would never leave her chores. So she sat with her daughter, despairing of ever marrying the girl off to a good family.

Shortly after darkness fell, the fisherman's daughter made her farewells and hurried home. While crossing a bridge, one of the golden clogs fell from her foot. She grieved--the clog had been beautiful, as well as a gift from the fish--but could not risk climbing down to find it, not when her stepmother might be right behind her on the road. So she returned home, and hid her fine clothes and remaining shoe beneath the woodpile, and dirtied herself. Her stepmother returned home to find her busy at chores, and was none the wiser.

The abandoned clog was carried by the currents, until it came to rest in a pool in the king's garden. There, while watering his stallion, the prince found the clog. He stared at the beautiful object, and pictured the delicate foot which fit inside it. He returned to the palace looking ill and stricken, and his worried mother asked what was wrong. "I am in love, and wish to marry," the prince said, and his mother smiled. "Tell me the name of the girl, and we shall find her, and a thousand others besides." The prince shook his head, and held out the clog. "I will have no one but the woman who owns this shoe, and I do not know who she may be."

The prince's mother took the clog, and turned it over in her hands. "I shall find this girl for you," she promised. The next day, she began visiting houses, carrying the clog with her, testing the foot of every maiden. Each night she returned to her son, eagerly awaiting news. "I have not found her yet, my son. But your patience will be rewarded. I shall look again tomorrow."

And so it went. At first, the prince's mother visited the homes of nobles and merchants, reasoning that such families were most likely able to shod their daughters in gold, and most likely to produce a suitable daughter. But then she widened her search to the families of traders and craftsmen. Eventually she began to search among the fisherfolk. The fisherman's wife rejoiced at this chance, and rinsed her daughter's hair with henna and rimmed her eyes with kohl. But still, the fisherman's daughter was the more beautiful of the two. So the stepmother dragged her down into the bakehouse and shut her inside. "Do not move from here until I come for you, or I shall curse you," she said. And what could her stepdaughter do but obey?

But as the stepmother introduced her own daughter to the prince's mother, the neighbor's rooster flew by, crowing in the speech of men: "The ugly one is on show, the beauty is down below!" And though the stepmother chased the rooster away, it was too late. The prince's mother sent her servants to search, and sure enough they found the girl sitting in the oven. Though she was dressed in rags and covered in ashes, her grace and beauty were apparent. This girl shall be my daughter-in-law, the prince's mother thought, even before she fit the clog onto the girl's foot and confirmed her identity.

"My son wishes to marry you," the prince's mother said, happily arranging the details. She gave a purse of gold to the stepmother, promising that a procession would come for the girl on Friday.

The stepmother cursed the good fortune of her husband's daughter, and the bad fortune of her own. But I can still prevent this wedding, she thought, and took her gold to the bazaar.

"Mix me a purge that will eat at the bowels of the woman who drinks it," she ordered. "And give me arsenic and lime, so that her hair will fall out, and ointment that smells like a corpse." And who could resist a woman so strong-willed and full of hate, and who paid with so many gold coins?

And so, when the stepmother prepared the girl for her wedding, she washed her hair with henna mixed with arsenic and lime, and spread the foul ointment all over her body, and forced the girl to drink the purge. She bid her stepdaughter farewell, and waited for the prince to send her back in disgrace.

But when she entered the palace, and the prince lifted her veil, she was even more beautiful than before. Her hair was thicker and more lustrous than before, and the scent of roses clung to her. And the purge? The bride did notice a heaviness in her bowels, but then gold coins began to spill from her body and pile upon the floor.

News of the girl's beauty and wonder spread, to the disappointment of her stepmother. But the son of the master merchant also heard that the prince's bride had a sister, and sent his mother to the fisherman's hut. There she gave the fisherman's wife another purse of gold, and arranged to return for the girl on the following Friday.

But this was not enough for the fisherman's wife. She went back to the bazaar, and ordered the same potions and powders as before. "But stronger this time. The results were impressive before, how much better will they be this time?" And she prepared her daughter for her wedding, just as she had prepared her stepdaughter.

But this time, when the bridegroom lifted her veil, the stench made him retch. The girl's hair came away in his hands, and she soiled herself. Disgusted, the merchant's son sent her back to her mother.

And so the fisherman's daughter, who had endured so much so patiently, lived happily with her prince. They were blessed with seven children, who grew to be strong, beautiful and wise.

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