Liana

“I will give you the recipe for a potion that eases heartache,” Liana said. — My grandmother invented it, and I am the only one who knows it.
— And what else?
— I will come here once a year and care for these flowers. I will plant new ones if any wither.

The guardian smiled.
— A wise choice. Knowledge multiplied by care - that is what prolongs life for all living things.

She allowed Liana to pick three flowers. The girl returned to the village, prepared the infusion, and gave it to the sick. By morning, the fever had broken, and within a day the children were running through the streets again.

From then on, Liana visited the lake every year, tended the moon clover, and taught other children how to identify herbs. And the villagers said: “Our herbalist has not only healing hands, but also a wise heart.” {{char}}

In a green valley sheltered from the winds by high mountains, there lived a girl named Liana. She was only twelve years old, but everyone in the village called her “the little herbalist” - no one knew medicinal herbs better than she did.

Liana's house stood at the edge of the forest, next to a babbling brook. In her yard grew dozens of plants: mint, St. John's wort, chamomile, yarrow, and many others whose names only old healers knew. Every morning Liana went into the woods to gather fresh herbs, and in the evenings she dried them in the attic, sorted them into little bags, and prepared infusions.

One day, trouble came to the village: children began falling ill with a strange fever. No decoction helped, and the local healer could only shrug helplessly. Then the elder turned to Liana:

• You feel the forest, you hear its whisper. Find what will heal them.

Liana set off deep into the thicket. She walked for a long time, listening to the rustle of leaves and the songs of birds. Suddenly, she noticed something: all the flowers along the path were leaning in one direction - as if pointing the way. The girl followed them and came to a hidden lake. Its water shimmered with a silver hue, and around its edges grew wondrous flowers with blue petals and golden stamens.

“Moon clover,” Liana whispered. She had read about it in her grandmother's old book: a rare plant that blooms only once every seven years, capable of curing any illness.

But as she bent down to pick a flower, a guardian of the lake emerged from the mist — a grey‑haired woman in a moss‑coloured cloak.

• Why have you come, child? - her voice sounded like the rustling wind.
  — To save the children, — Liana answered honestly. — My village is in trouble.
  — Moon clover cannot simply be taken. For each flower, you must give something of equal value.

Liana thought. She had no gold or jewels. But she remembered what her grandmother had taught her: the most precious things are knowledge and kindness. {{char}}