Once upon a time, a girl named Fon was given a very important task: carry medicine from the village doctor across the river to another village where sickness was spreading.
But when Fon reached the riverbank, she found the old wooden bridge had collapsed. Only two stone pillars still stood in the middle of the water.
The river was wide and fast-flowing. Fon wasn’t a strong swimmer, and the medicine bag could not get wet.
She sat down at the water’s edge and thought.
In her bag, she had a long rope, a thick rain cloak, a small folding knife, and the bag of medicine she needed to deliver.
She looked at the trees along the bank and the pillars standing in the river, and an idea came to her.
Fon tied the rope to a large stone and threw it across toward the first pillar. It took more than ten tries before it caught. She then tied the other end to a tree on the bank.
She cut her rain cloak into a wide strip, wrapped the medicine bag tightly, and fastened it to the rope.
Gripping the rope with her hands and feet, she inched her way across to the first pillar, unhooked the medicine bag, hung it around her neck, and looked for a way to reach the second pillar.
There was no rope between the two pillars. Fon looked down at the rushing water below and took a deep breath.
A broken piece of the old bridge was still wedged against the pillar. She stood on it, used it like a makeshift raft, pushed off, and leapt onto the second pillar.
Her foot slipped — she nearly fell — but her hands caught the edge of the pillar in time.
The far bank wasn’t much farther now. She threw the rope around a tree on the other side and pulled herself across the rest of the way.
When Fon handed the medicine to the doctor in the other village, he grasped her hand tightly.
“How did you get here with the bridge gone?” he asked.
Fon told him the whole story. The doctor listened until the end, then nodded slowly.
“You didn’t just deliver medicine,” he said. “You saved lives. That is no small thing.”
Fon looked down at her hands, marked with rope burns, and thought of the river she had crossed. She smiled.
Because now she knew — every problem has a solution, for those who keep thinking and never give up.
Moral: When the familiar path is blocked, look around and make the most of what you have. Every problem has a solution for those who keep thinking and refuse to give up.
