The River Dragon's Long Sleep

Read aloud, slowly and warmly. Stop often to let the children answer. There are no wrong answers here, only brave new ideas to try.

Read aloud, or let an older child read it themselves. Pause at each question so the heroes can decide together. There are no wrong answers here, only braver ideas to try.

The Silver River is running low. All summer the rains have not come, and the terraced rice fields are growing thirsty. The grown-ups in the village look up at the dry blue sky and shake their heads.

Far up the mountain sleeps the Gentle River Dragon. When he stirs, the rains come. But he has slept far, far too long this time, and the river keeps sinking.

Granny Yuki the Tale-Keeper calls you to her side. "You two have heads full of ideas and kind hearts," she says. "Will you climb over the mountain and wake him, gently, before the harvest fails?"

She gives you three gifts: a little bronze bell, a ball of red thread, and a sweet rice cake. Then she smiles. "Up there we do not win by being the strongest. We win by being brave, kind, and full of ideas."

What is your hero name? Are you a hero of Imagination, of Courage, or of Kindness?

All through the long, dry summer the rains had not come. The Silver River, which fed every terraced field in the valley, sank lower week by week, until the young rice stood pale and thirsty and the elders watched the cloudless sky with worried faces.

For high on the mountain, in a deep bend of the river, slept the Gentle River Dragon, whose slow stirring had brought the rains since before anyone could remember. This year he had slept far too long, and no one knew how to wake him.

Granny Yuki the Tale-Keeper called the two of you to her side. "You have heads full of ideas and kind hearts," she said, "and that is worth more up the mountain than any strength. Will you climb over the pass and wake him, gently, before the harvest fails?"

Into your hands she pressed three gifts: a little bronze bell with a clear, soft ring, a ball of bright red thread, and a sweet rice cake wrapped in a leaf. "Remember," she said, "up there we do not win by being the strongest. We win by being brave, kind, and full of ideas."

What is your hero name? Which quality will you carry: Imagination, Courage, or Kindness?

You climb the steep path and come to the Red Torii Gate. On each side sits a big stone lion-dog, still as rock. As you step close, they blink and stretch.

"None may pass," they rumble, "until you answer our riddle." They look fierce, but their eyes are kind. They like a good thinking face, and a brave guess is welcome.

What could you do? Could you listen closely and puzzle it out together? You could ask Kon the Fox for a hint. A thoughtful guess is allowed too. What do you try?

When you answer, the Guardian Lion-Dogs nod and lean back. "Well thought," they say. The gate swings open, and the path leads on.

The path climbed steeply through the cedars until it reached the Red Torii Gate, tall and vermilion against the green of the mountain. On either side crouched a great stone lion-dog, so still you might have walked straight past them. Then, as you drew near, the stone seemed to soften: they blinked, they stretched, and they turned their carved heads to look at you.

"None may pass," the Guardian Lion-Dogs rumbled together, "until you answer our riddle." Their voices were deep as a temple drum, and for a moment your heart beat quick. But there was no cruelty in their eyes, only a fair and patient sort of watchfulness. They would have liked a good idea, and they would not have minded a brave, thoughtful guess.

Will you listen closely and puzzle it out together? Kon the Fox is somewhere near the bamboo, and he loves to whisper a hint. What do you try?

When your answer came, the Guardian Lion-Dogs nodded slowly and settled back onto their pedestals. "Well thought," they said, and a low, pleased rumble followed you as the great gate swung open and let you through.

Night is falling now. Ahead, an old wooden bridge arches over the river, silver in the moonlight. It looks lovely, but it sways and creaks when you hurry.

You can feel it. This bridge only holds firm for those who cross it slowly and calmly, together, with a steady heart.

How will you cross? Could you go gently, hand in hand, taking a deep breath? Could you tie the red thread so you stay together? What is your plan?

When you cross slowly and calmly, side by side, the bridge holds firm under your feet. You step off the far end, safe, into the misty dark.

Beyond the gate the daylight faded, and a round silver moon rose over the river. There the path met an old arched bridge of dark wood, beautiful and a little frightening, for it swayed and groaned whenever the wind pushed at it. The water ran fast and black far below.

You understood, almost at once, what the bridge asked of you. It held firm only for those who crossed it slowly and calmly, together: no rushing, no fear-driven scramble, just one steady step after another, with a brave and quiet heart.

How will you cross? Will you go gently, side by side, breathing slow? You might tie the red thread between you so that you stay together all the way. What is your plan?

By crossing slowly and calmly, hand in hand, you kept the bridge steady beneath your feet. It carried you the whole long arc above the water, and set you down at last on the far bank, safe in the drifting mist.

At last you reach the wide, misty river. And there he is: the great River Dragon, curled along the water, vast as a hill, breathing slow. He has slept for so long that mist has gathered on his back.

This is not a fight. You could never wake such a giant by shouting, and you would not want to frighten him. He is gentle, and a little bit lonely.

What kind, calm thing could you do? You have a little bell that rings soft and clear. You could ring it and sing him a quiet, friendly song. What do you try?

When you ring the little bell and sing softly, the great dragon's sleepy eyes open. "Someone came," he murmurs, surprised and glad. "Someone came to wake me kindly."

And there, at last, lay the great River Dragon. He was curled along a deep, misty bend of the river, his long body vast as a green hill, his breath rising and falling slow as the tide. He had slept so very long that mist had gathered on his scales and reeds had grown between his claws. He looked, for a moment, like the end of the adventure.

But this was never a fight, and could never be one. You could no more battle such a creature than battle the mountain itself, and you would not have wished to. He was not fierce. He was gentle, and, you slowly understood, he was lonely, for no one had climbed all this way to sit with him in a very long time.

This calls for a calm and careful kindness. You carry a little bell that rings soft and clear, the kind of sound that wakes a friend without a fright. You could ring it gently and sing him a quiet song. What do you do?

When you rang the little bell and sang, soft and low, the great dragon's sleepy eyes drifted open, deep and dark and kind. "Someone came," he murmured, as though he could scarcely believe it. "Someone came to wake me kindly, and not with shouting." And he smiled, slow as sunrise.

The River Dragon uncurls and rises, slow and grand, into the night sky. He winds above you like a long blue ribbon, and where he passes, soft rain begins to fall.

The Silver River brims and shines. Down in the valley, the thirsty rice fields drink deep and turn green again. The dragon is not lonely now, for he has friends.

High above, Amaterasu the Sun-Kami breaks through the clouds and smiles down on you. You did it together. You were brave, you were kind, and most of all, you were full of ideas. Well done, heroes.

The River Dragon uncurled and rose, grand and unhurried, into the moonlit sky. He wound above the valley like a long blue ribbon, and everywhere his shadow passed, a soft, warm rain began to fall, the first rain of the whole long summer.

The Silver River swelled and brimmed and shone. Far below, the thirsty rice fields drank deep and turned, almost as you watched, a glad and living green. And the dragon was lonely no longer, for now he had two friends who would climb the mountain to see him again.

As the clouds thinned, Amaterasu the Sun-Kami broke through with a warm gold light and smiled down upon you. You had done it, and you had done it together: with your imagination, with your courage, and above all with your kindness. Well done, heroes of the Blossom Mountains.