Sailboats and sun too

Here is a children’s short story that could be applied to anyone concerned in any way about any individual challenge (health, employment, family, etc) or even the COVID crisis or the new world order agenda or any and all end-time’s events unfolding today. This story, No Worries: The Song of Creation by author H.E. Basaar, is about three new friends, Tommy, Gill, and Mary, who each are deeply troubled by life altering questions, but who in the end come to one life changing answer. May God bless you as you read!


In a valley not unlike any other valley, there wound a river in which lived a little Rainbow Trout named Gill. Every day Gill happily splashed about in the waters near a bubbly waterfall, attended a school he loved, and played swimming games with his other fish friends. He was full of life, and loved his little home in the fresh water. Yet, one day he overheard some adult fish asking one another where they thought the water of the river came from. Some said it came out of the ground, others said it fell from the sky, and a few of them even declared it came from high up in the mountains.

Well, little Gill became so confused that he did not go to his favorite school the next day. Instead, he swam aimlessly close to the riverbank where he had always been told not to swim. Because his mind was so overwhelmed by unanswered questions regarding the river, he did not even notice that there was a boy fishing along the shore.

As he thought and thought and thought, he caught sight of a worm dangling in the midst of his liquid paradise. The sun shone down brilliantly into the watery world, and he in great delight lost track of what he had been thinking. Hunger pains struck his stomach, and in haste he swam over to the bobbing worm. In one big bite he chomped down upon his unexpected, tasty lunch, but what happened next perplexed him greatly.

Pain struck his little mouth as he tried to swim away, and panic filled his heart. What was happening? How was the worm hurting his mouth?

It was then that he realized how close to the shore he had swum, and in fear Gill beheld the outline of the boy with the fishing pole who was pulling him out of the water.

What was he to do? He recalled stories of other fish and how they had gotten away. Could he? Was he strong enough?

“Got one!” The boy exclaimed when Gill dangled before him. “Looks like I’ll be having fish for supper.”

Gill began to puff for air, but found that he could not breathe.

“Ah!” He tried to call out to the boy who nearly dropped everything upon hearing the voice of the fish, but what the little fish had said could not be understood because of the hook that was in his mouth.

The boy looked left and right, unwilling to believe that a fish could talk. He cautiously reached back out for the fish and carefully threw it into his bucket.

“No. Please!” Gill exclaimed through gasps for air, for he needed to get back into the water and fast.

“I don’t believe it,” the boy muttered, scratching his head.

“Don’t believe what?” The little fish asked curiously, while he flopped about uncomfortably.

“Y-ou, y-you t-t-ta-lk?” The boy stuttered uneasily.

“P-please, I c-can’t b-breathe! Let me go b-back into the water!” Gill gasped.

“Y-you t-talk,” the boy said again, only this time not as a question.

“Please, I did not mean to swim so close to shore! I, I, I was just so sad,” Gill moaned unhappily.

“Sad? Fish get sad?” The boy squinted as he spoke, and Gill started to pass out.

“P-please, I’m g-going to die,” the little fish puffed heavily.

“But, if I put you back in, you’ll swim away and not talk to me,” the boy explained.

“No, I, I, won’t. R-r-really,” the Rainbow Trout said breathlessly, and so the boy compassionately reached out and placed the little fish back into the glistening water.

After a few seconds passed, Gill surfaced, looked suspiciously at the boy, and swished the water with his fin.

“Gosh! I didn’t know fish could talk!” The boy declared as he set down his fishing pole. “Say, do you have a name?”

The little fish nervously blew bubbles in the water, then shyly answered, “My name’s Gill.”

“Hi, Gill. I’m Tommy. I live over there on a farm.” He pointed over his shoulder.

The fish and the boy looked carefully at each other, and after a few more questions began to warm up to the idea of talking to one another.

“You said you were sad,” Tommy began. “Why are you sad?”

“Well,” the little trout rolled his eyes, “None of us fish know where the water of our river comes from, and so, I,” he paused thoughtfully. “So, I started thinking that maybe the water could all dry up, and, and, then…” His voice trailed off.

“I can see why you’d be sad,” Tommy said sincerely. “I’m afraid of things too. I wonder about whether or not I’ll run out of air. You know, like, is it possible to breathe it all up?”

“I don’t know,” Gill expressed pensively. “I guess if the river could dry up, then the air could stop too.”

“Hello,” a petal soft voice spoke, and both the fish and the boy looked around to see from where it had come. “Over here,” she called, but their eyes looked past her. “The daffodil, silly!” She giggled. “I’m Mary.”

“Why are you happy?” Inquired the wide-eyed, little fish. He could not believe that a flower was talking, for he had always been taught that plants could not speak.

“I’m not happy.”

“But you said you were merry.”

“No, silly! My name is Mary,” she rolled her lovely green eyes.

“Well, uh, um,” Gill stuttered, “Mary sounds like a merry name.”

“I don’t feel very merry though.” The flower’s yellow head drooped with sadness as her green leaves withered.

“Why not?” Gill asked.

“I fear that the sun will stop shining one day. It stops shining at night, and sometimes,” she lowered her voice dramatically and glanced from right to left. Slowly, she leaned forward and whispered, “Sometimes there is an Ipsy.”

Tommy looked at Gill, and Gill looked at Tommy. Both had puzzled expressions on their faces, for neither one knew what an “Ipsy” was.

“A what?” Tommy finally asked.

“An Ipsy. You know,” she rolled her lovely eyes. “When the moon throws its shadow over the sun.”

“Oh! You mean an eclipse!” Tommy nearly shouted, and the fish splashed about in laughter.

“Yes, yes, an Ipsy, that’s what I said,” the little yellow flower declared, fluffing her petals, like a bird fluffs its feathers, while completely disregarding the boy and the fish’s laughter. “Well, I really don’t think it is a laughing matter,” she explained seriously as the laughter began to die down.

“What’s not a laughing matter?” The fish slapped its fins.

“The sun not shining. I do fear it so,” she said weakly and her withered leaves trembled.

“That would be scary,” the boy agreed.

“Oh my! Oh my! What if the river dried up, the wind stopped, and the sun quit shining?” Gill inquired with wide, terrified eyes.

“Gosh,” mumbled the boy.

“Oh, dear me,” whimpered the flower.

There was a splashing sound behind them, but none of them looked. Ripples washed over the surface of the river, but not one of them beheld it. Foaming waves began to gush, but the flower stared at the ground. A whirlpool started in the center of the water, but Tommy’s eyes were closed. However, when the little waterfall roared, Gill turned quickly to observe it.

“Oh dear,” the little fish said, but no one could hear him because the sound of the water was so loud.

Tommy looked up, and his mouth dropped open at the sight. “Wow,” he whispered, but his words were lost in the noise.

“Uh oh,” Mary said through shaking petals, but no one heard her either.

The water brewed and stewed and sloshed and splashed while the three looked on aghast. It spun and churned and swirled and lapped as the sun rays glinted off its liquid sheen.

“Uh, uh-hem!” They heard a roar. “Uh-hem! Uh-hem!” They heard again. “What’s this I hear. You fear? You fear? Ah-hem, what’s this I hear?”

Each blankly blinked with mouths open wide at the unusual sound and sight, for there before them rose the waterfall in magnificent light. Frothing waves, like soda pop fizz, moved in circular motions within the falls, and splashes sputtered as they descended down into the crystal clear water below. Shimmers of red and blue and yellow and green danced within the waters liquid glory as the sun doused it with glitter and confetti of grand display.

“I say, I say, uh-hem, are you afraid?”

Was it the water that spoke? Tommy could not blink; Gill could not speak, and little Mary’s heart did sink.

“Oh, come, come. Tommy, minutes ago you did not think that fish could speak,” Mr. River roared with a laugh. “And Gill, were you not shocked when Mary spoke?”

None of them could say a word now, however, for the sight of the amazing river was more than they could bear.

“Well, well, so be it. I heard what you were saying,” the River declared. “Little Gill,” the frothing falls said in a deep voice, “I know that you do not understand where the water comes from. It is known by most to come from the sky, the earth, and the mountains. But,” the roar of the mighty churning waters laughed joyfully to the tune of the wind rippling across its golden, glittering surface, “it really comes from none of these places.”

The little fish listened closely and gulped at the words. For, what could this mean? If the water did not come from the sky or the earth or the mountains, where did it come from?

“Ah, little Gill, do not be worried about me drying up,” Mr. River laughed.

“But, why?” Gill tried to say, but all that came out was a squeak.

“Because, God provides the water. It is He who makes me and all rivers like I am.”

“And like I am too,” a feather soft, silky voice declared, and all three turned around in circles trying to determine who had spoken. Golden shimmers dusted down upon them as they looked from left to right, behind and in front of themselves.

“Wh-who are you?” Asked the bewildered boy.

“Wh-where are you?” Inquired the fearful flower.

“Wh-what are you?” Questioned the trembling trout.

“Look up, dear friends! Look up!”

All eyes turned upwards into the cloudless sky. There, beaming with amusement glistened the golden sun who was cheerfully bouncing.

“Oh my,” the daffodil whispered in disbelief. “The, the, sun is talking.”

“Yes, yes, little Mary.”

The daffodil trembled. “Why?” She asked as she shook her petaled head.

“Dear, dear daffodil,” chuckled Mrs. Sun, “I want you to know that I will not stop shining, because I have been placed here by God Himself to reflect the glory of His ceaseless light.”

“What’s that?” The yellow flower questioned.

“What’s what, dear?” Replied Mrs. Sun.

“Uh, um, c-c-ceasel-lessy.” She crinkled up her little, daffodil nose, which is very unlike a human nose.

“It means to never quit. So, I’ll never quit shining down my golden rays upon you, Mary.”




“Because God is light, and I am a reflection of it.”

Mary tilted her head to the side. “Reflectsey?”

“R-e-f-l-e-c-t-i-o-n, dear daffodil. You know, like when you look into a mirror.”


“Oh, that is right, you are a flower, not a human,” the Sun chuckled, thus sending forth brilliant, swirling rays of happy light down around the flower, fish, and boy.

“I understand,” Tommy replied with a firm nod of his head.

“I am very glad, Tommy,” Mrs. Sun spoke softly. “Now, dear daffodil, turn and face the surface of Mr. River. Look closely.”

“Oh my! Why, that’s me!” She cried out with glee as she perceived her face on the dancing surface of the waters.

“Yes, yes, little Mary. You can see yourself can you not?”

“Yes! Oh, yes! Why, how splendiferous!” Mary exclaimed.

“You mean splendid, stupid,” Tommy corrected the flower who paid no attention to him.

“Now, now, you two, splendiferous is word. But, even if it was not, you must not call each other names,” Mr. River spoke up.

“Thank you, Mr. River,” Mrs. Sun commented with a smile. “Now, Mary, when you look into the water, you can see yourself, can you not?”

“Why, why, yes!” Shouted out the little flower with glee.

“You are not in the water though, are you?”

“Uh,” Mary glanced down at her petals and stem to make sure that she was not wet. “Nope!”

“So, then, dear,” the Sun smiled and crystal shimmers showered down over Mary, “you see, look here,” Mrs. Sun pointed with a brilliant ray, “you are yellow. Those there, those are your eyes, your nose, your stem, and leaves. Can you see me behind you shining down?” Mary nodded happily. “What you are seeing is a reflection of yourself.”

“Oh, my yes! Oh, oh my!” Mary giggled. “Neato! I can see my reflectsey!”

Mrs. Sun and Mr. River tried very hard to keep from laughing at the silly pronunciations of the little flower. Tommy and Gill simply rolled their eyes with amusement, but Mary was too taken with her own reflection in the water to notice anything.

“So, Mary,” The Sun began again.

“Yes, Mrs. Sun.”

“I will not stop shining because I am a reflection of God’s light. All light comes from God,” Mrs. Sun smiled down happily upon Merry. “And God’s light will never fail because God is forever.”

“What’s forever?” The inquisitive flower asked further.

Mrs. Sun chuckled, “It’s a very long time.”


The daffodil gleefully looked at her reflection in the water while Gill delightedly splashed about and drank in the refreshing liquid. However, Tommy was not happy, for he was still unsure about the wind. Now he knew that the Mr. River would continue flowing and Mrs. Sun would not stop shining, but he still wondered about the air. So, in troubled thoughts, Tommy sat down on the edge of Mr. River where Gill darted back and forth in the water. While he gazed into the crystal clear surface, a soft breeze rippled over the liquid before his sad eyes and swirled through the glittery rays of the Sun. Upon his face it blew, until he took in a deep breath of fresh air.

“Never fear, Tommy.”

Tommy gasped, for he knew that the Wind was talking to him.

“Tommy, I have been around since the beginning. God breathed into Adam and Eve the breath of life, and they lived. And since then his Wind has blown throughout the earth.”

All fell silent at the hushed words of the Wind. Gill stopped splashing, and Mary even stopped looking at her lovely reflection.

“So,” Tommy started to speak, “so then, you come from God just like the water of Mr. River and the light of Mrs. Sun? And, and you won’t stop blowing or get all used up?”

“Not at all, Tommy. Not at all,” the Wind sighed gently, and a smile crossed Tommy’s face. “God will always provide for you, including air to breathe.”

The little daffodil cocked her head to the side and tried to ask a question, “What’s pro-pro, um, uh?”

The Wind answered without her finishing. “When God p-r-o-v-i-d-e-s for you, it means that he makes sure you have everything you need, like the sunshine, little Mary.”

“Oh, okay!” She smiled. “Pro-pro-pro,” Mary stumbled over the words again. “Pro-pro-VIDE!” She sneezed because of her own pollen, and the word came out perfectly.

Gill snickered, and Tommy stifled his laugh while Mr. River and Mrs. Sun said, “God bless you.”

After the silly scene calmed down, the Wind continued in a soft voice, “Therefore, Tommy, Gill, and Mary, no one ever needs to worry about anything, for God is our provider. And from him comes every good and perfect thing.” Then, very refreshingly, he blew over Gill, Mary and Tommy, until each of them smiled at each other.

And so the three new friends forgot their worries and began to play happily all the rest of the day. Tommy swam with Gill, and both of them splattered Mary with water from Mr. River. All of them giggled and talked and dove and dreamed as the sun sparkled, the river gurgled and the Wind blew round the Sun’s rays and River’s watery sprays.

Soon a choir of trees, squirrels, birds, bees, farm animals, crops and rocks, and other creatures and vegetation of the valley sang forth jubilantly the tune of God’s provision. Magnificently the cows of the farm mooed, birds tweeted, trees rustled their branches, bees buzzed, the fish flapped their fins, and the daffodil joined in on the song of creation. Tommy laughed with delight at this wonderful sight and joyful song, and soon in laughter sang along.

No worries! No worries in sight!

For God’s golden sun

Shines forth His great light.

No worries! No worries at all!

For God’s river flows

From a crystal waterfall.

No worries! No worries to bear!

For God’s breath of wind

Will always be there.

Sing forth! Sing forth all of you!

Who sit and sputter

Who whine and stew.

Sing forth! Sing forth everyone!

For God’s our provider

Of Water, Wind and Sun.

Sing forth! Sing forth, today!

God knows what you need

Before you kneel and pray.

Fear not! Fear not my children!

God cares for you

For He’s a God of provision.

Doubt not! Doubt not His word!

For God does not lie

Of this be assured.

Reach out! Reach out to Him!

For He is eternal

And in Him we will win!

Blessings! Blessings be to the King!

Lift up your voices

High now and sing.

Blessings! Blessings to Him evermore!

Who richly gives to all

That He has in store!

Blessings! Blessings lift up in praise!

Worship Him today

Forever and always!

So in faith, little Gill went home and shared the good news with his family and friends. And the very next day to school he did go, and never again doubted that the waters would flow. Mary danced about, and told her flowery friends what the sun had said, and all ran to the water’s edge to admire their reflections. And Tommy, the boy, ran home quite relieved that the wind blew from the very presence of God and would not cease.

And from that day forth, each of them tried to live their lives without worrying, for they knew that God would always provide for their needs according to his riches in glory. This is not to say that they got everything that they wanted, for God is not Santa Claus in the sky. And even though they often thought that God was late in helping them and in answering their prayers, God always provided right on time.