At the edge of a sleepy village stood an old stone well, so deep that no one had ever seen the bottom. The village children knew a curious thing about it: whatever you called down into the well, it would call back — but not always the same words you had spoken. The well, the old folk said, did not echo your voice. It echoed your heart.
If you shouted something unkind, something even unkinder came back up. But if you spoke a kind word into the dark, a kinder one would rise to meet you.
One morning a grumpy boy named Tarek stomped up to the well in a foul temper. He had quarreled with his friends, and he was looking for somewhere to shout. "You're all horrible!" he yelled down into the well. And up from the deep came a voice, cold and sharp: "Horrible… horrible… nobody likes you…"
Tarek stepped back, stung. The well had thrown his own meanness back at him, and made it worse. He sat down on its cold stone rim, feeling more miserable than ever.
An old woman drawing water nearby had seen the whole thing. "The well only gives back what you bring it, child," she said gently. "If you don't like what comes up, try sending something better down." Tarek frowned, doubtful. But he was tired of feeling so sour. He leaned over the well and, quietly, said, "I'm sorry."
For a moment there was silence. Then, from far below, a warm voice floated up: "I forgive you… you are kind… come back soon…" Tarek's heart lifted as if a stone had rolled off it.
Now Tarek could not stop. "You are my friend!" he called, and "my friend… my dear friend…" came rising back. "The world is beautiful!" he cried, and the well agreed, more beautifully each time. The kinder he spoke, the kinder the answers grew, until he was laughing out loud at the bottom of his own good mood.
He ran to find his friends, said sorry to each of them, and brought them all back to hear the well speak kindness in their own voices.
Word spread, and soon the whole village understood the well's gentle lesson. People came to it not to shout their anger, but to practice their kindness, and to hear it returned to them sweeter than they gave. Children whispered hopeful wishes. Neighbors who had quarreled came to make peace, calling soft apologies into the deep and hearing forgiveness rise to meet them.
"The world is an echoing well," the old woman liked to say. "Whatever you send into it, you will hear again one day."
And the village, which had always been sleepy, became known far and wide as the kindest place in all the valley.