A gale is swift upon the ship and treasure is our destiny. Climb belowdecks and join the reveling crew. It’s time for the crone to tell her tiny tale, so open your mind and heart and find what meaning you will.

A witch who lived in a starving village caught fire most every day. If ever she cast her eyes upon a passing villager, they tied her to a tree and held a flame to the hem of her cloak. The cloak burned but her body did not. In shame she would escape to cry on her bed.  

At last they burned her cottage and set her free. Thereafter she walked the shore, practicing her craft on the fish of the sea and filling out her bones. Her spells and love of seagulls kept her warm.

And yet, she longed to be a good witch of good use.

One chill and blustery morn a fish merchant called to her from a safe distance. “Our nets are empty, while you are fat,” he complained. “You steal and poison our fish with your dark magic!”

The witch knew the villagers threw out the fish she left in baskets on their doorsteps. “I do not steal,” she called over her shoulder as she collected shells. “Beneath a full moon I walk into the sea and fish swim into my arms, a gift from Neptune.”

“Filthy witch, you lie!”

“Come and see,” she replied.

A fortnight later the man returned with his friends. They watched as the witch walked into the sea and drowned. Satisfied at the justice of the gods, they returned to their homes with empty bellies.

The witch, disguised as a miracle worker, served the welcoming villagers wine and fish from the next day forward. Storytellers say she drowned that others might live. But it was she who was reborn.

Heaven on earth is like this.