橋の下を流れる、名前のない小川。村の人にとっては、わざわざ語るほどでもない当たり前の場所です。けれど夏が来れば、子どもたちが裸足で水に入り、何かを見つけては歓声をあげる。こんな川がそこかしこにあって、それが特別でもなんでもない。その「当たり前」こそが、この村の豊かさの証なのだと思います。
English
A small stream runs beneath the bridge, too ordinary to have a name — or if it has one, no one here bothers to use it. To the people of the village it is nothing remarkable, just water that has always been there. But come summer, the children wade in barefoot, bending over the shallows and crying out each time something darts between the stones. Streams like this lie scattered all through the valley, and not one of them is thought of as special. And that, perhaps, is the whole point. A place where such abundance passes for ordinary — where a clear, running stream is simply part of an afternoon — is a place quietly rich in the things that matter most.
