�On a most turbulent and windy day, the men went out. The weather was harsh but they needed food desperately enough to brave the storm. These sturdy, strong men prepared the fishing boat. They went out upon the water amongst the waves. Their boat held up. Well, these men were ungrateful men. They jeered woman, scorned children, and took from those who were in even more desperate circumstances then themselves. They stayed for hours on their boat, amid the waves and the rain, catching no fish. At Midday there was a sudden calm, and the men could see no land. To the starboard they could hear what sounded like a woman�s voice. They agreed to sail towards this sound, thinking that this was their way back. As they got closer they heard a song so strong and pure that they were entranced. Each man felt as though the song was his own and that he was receiving the most wonderful of gifts. In the distance, they could see a haze and within that haze was an island. On the beach of that island, a woman lay in the water with only her head and shoulders out. She was singing that song, and she was so beautiful that all the men knew that they must be with her. They sailed their boat closer, each planning some dire way to be away with the other men. Soon each man thought it would be easy to jump ship and have the women to himself. Since every man on the ship had this thought, they all jumped out at practically the same moment, and the island vanished. Yet, the singing remained. It was a race now, to see who would reach that singing. Their boat capsized and sunk, but the men were placed so much under the spell that they paid no heed. One by one, the men sank like the ship and drowned, Nature taking pity on the helpless, (the ones the men had mistreated,) and granted them the revenge they themselves would not carry out. ...So beware you people of being ungrateful, Nature can also punish yee.�

        A common poor village man listened to this story and thought �I would do no harm to others, yet I could wish that siren singing to me. I could wish a death.� He hung his head wondering if he too was ungrateful.

        A day later this same man was on his way to sell his few possessions, some pots, to make money. Halfway along this journey, in between a wood and the sea, a fog rose up around this man. As he walked along a mist rose up and enshrouded him so that he was forced to stop. This man wanted to hurry on his way, his wife and children were home making sure that he would have a warm return. A sense of doom overpowered this poor soul. He was not doing his job well enough, he was not living his life good enough, and he had a desperate desire to provide comforts for those around him. There was no hope to sate this desire, all he had to his name were some stupid pots and he was going to have to sell even those. Gloom surrounded him, what was he to do? Should he even go on?

        His thought went to his daughter, how she was always thinking of diamonds, and how beautiful they would look as ornaments on her neck and ears.

        �There�s no need to be greedy!� his wife would say. She never adorned herself with such things, not even years ago when they did have the money for extras...�A heart is much more precious then gold, and we all have those!� his wife would continue.

        Oh, why had he failed them? But than the thought of them gave him strength to go on. Perhaps the fish would be easier to catch this year, but in the meantime at least he was doing something to make his family a little more comfortable.

        The fog let up a little, and he decided to continue on his journey. As he stepped out his foot touched water. The water rose up around him and he found himself being whisked away in an aquatic vortex. Fear was unknown at this moment. He heard something, just beyond his reach. Singing. Beauty. �What is this,� he wondered. A thought flitted across his mind and he now knew fear again. Perhaps it was not wise to wish yourself ill tidings. The Siren has come to take me. He sunk into the depths of that whirlpool, never stopping, and all the while he heard that lovely singing.

        Then there she was, that siren. He was under water and she was singing. He was underwater and he was breathing. How he could be thus underwater he did not know, but there he was. And there was that beautiful creature said to have brought all things to their death. Ouch. Here it comes that death.

        But wondrously, miraculously, there was no death to him. She smiled at him. She was in a little house in a cove in whatever water he had fallen into. It tasted fresh, like a lake. He looked and saw fancy pots and seashells. Coral was a decoration along the roof and moss was a hung blanket. She smiled.

        �Distressed and troubled and certain of your death, am I right?�

        �Yes,� he responded, with a face sad, distant. It obviously looked as though he felt unworthy, his face looked of death.

        �I am not here to kill you.�

        But isn�t that what the stories said? Thought the man.

        �Stories are not always how it is,� said the siren in answer to his thought. �I am here to help you, to get you back on your feet.�

        The man noticed this siren was not just a beautiful woman. She was a mermaid. To him she was a Siren though. But this didn�t help him from blurting...

        �Who�s gonna help you get back on yours?�

        �At lease you have a sense of humor,� she laughed, making her voice sparkle like the sweetness of wind chimes.

        �Here,� and she held out her hand.

        The man stared at what was in that hand. Three shiny wonders. A diamond like no other, with no flaw. Gold that showed no dullness but was not for a fool. And a heart made of red porcelain, though no one has ever heard tale of such a thing.

        �And what am I to do with this?�

        �I think you know,� and within a breath the scene had vanished.

        There he was standing on that path in between the wood and the sea, the fog thinning and the market just ahead. He felt them in his hand, the jewels; and he felt the pots on his back. He skipped instead of trudging now. Something had happened besides that surreal vision. Something inside of him.

        At the market he sold his pots, he traded his diamond, and he sold the gold. He bought new clothing and house wares. A horse and a wagon to carry him home. And he had the porcelain heart gift-wrapped.

        He traveled home on a fine horse and had a wagon to carry his goods. At home there was his wife, and there were his children. He parked his carriage where he could not be seen. He went to them in rags. His wife looked at him sorrowfully, and he held to her only a few coppers. She took them and gave him a kiss.

        �But dear I have something else for you, and the children,� he smiled at his boy and girl so that their faces lit up with joy.