The Fisherman and His Wife

Quick Answer

Why This Story Works for Bedtime

It’s a gentle ‘contentment’ lesson for older kids. Read with a calm tone and focus on the pattern: each wish feels exciting, but peace comes from knowing when to stop.

Story Synopsis

A fisherman and his wife live in a shabby hut by the sea. One day the fisherman catches a flounder that speaks and begs to be released, explaining it is an enchanted prince. The fisherman, kindhearted, lets the fish go. When he tells his wife, she is not impressed—she is angry. Why didn’t he ask for something? She sends him back to the sea to demand a better house. Reluctantly, the fisherman calls to the flounder, and the wish is granted. But the new home is never enough. Soon the wife wants a grander house, then a castle. Each time, the fisherman returns, embarrassed and weary, and each time the sea looks different—cloudier, wilder, darker—mirroring the growing storm inside the wife’s desires. The wishes escalate: the wife wants to be a king, then an emperor, then even a pope. The fisherman pleads that it is too much, but she will not stop. At last she demands the greatest power of all: to be like God, controlling the sun and moon. The fisherman goes to the shore and calls once more. The sea roars, black and threatening. The flounder answers—and the world resets. In an instant, the fisherman and his wife are back in their original hut. The Fisherman and His Wife is a sharp, memorable story about greed and gratitude. It doesn’t say wishing is bad; it shows how endless wanting can steal the joy from every gift. The calm at the end is a quiet invitation: notice what you already have, and let ‘enough’ be a kind of peace.

Story Excerpt

A fisherman and his wife once lived in a small, shabby hovel close to the sea. The wind slipped through the cracks, and the salt air clung to everything. Each day the fisherman took his rod and went down to the shore, hoping the sea would be kind. One morning, as he sat quietly and watched the clear water, his line suddenly tugged — hard. It sank far down, as if something heavy had taken hold. The fisherman pulled and pulled until at last a large flounder came up, shining and slippery in the light. And then, to his great surprise, the flounder spoke. “ Hark, you fisherman, ” it said, “ I pray you, let me live. I am no flounder really, but an enchanted prince. What good will it do you to keep me? I should not be good to eat. Put me back into the water again, and let me go. ” The fisherman blinked, then gave a little sigh. “ Come, ” he said, “ there is no need for so many words. A fish that can talk — I should certainly let go, anyhow. ” So he slipped the flounder back into the clear sea. The flounder darted down, leaving a long, reddish streak in the water behind him, and was gone. The fisherman stood up and went home. His wife was waiting in the hovel, her arms folded, her eyes sharp with questions. “ Husband, ” she said, “ have you caught nothing today? ” “ No, ” he answered. “ I did catch a flounder who said he was an enchanted prince, so I let him go again. ” Her eyebrows rose. “ Did you not wish for anything first? ” she asked. “ No, ” said the fisherman, puzzled. “ What should I wish for? ” “ Ah, ” said the woman, looking around at the cracked walls and the damp floor, “ it is surely hard to live always in this dirty hovel. You…

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