The Origin of Maple Syrup

In her drafty log cabin, Elanor set up all the ingredients she remembered her mother would need for her favorite treat- just butter, some sea salt, and a whole bucketful of maple syrup. On such a chilly evening, Elanor reminisced about how her mother loved to bake in snowy weather. She gently rested her thoughts in the back of her mind while she poured the sap from the metal container into a large stew pot lofted above the fire and watched as steam began to drift up from the surface. The familiar scent of maple wafted from its perch above the flame, and she knew she'd have about half an hour before the boiling candy was ready for stirring and cooling. Her younger sister Lacey was too little to help, and she was far too preoccupied playing with her doll on the floor, anyway.

"Ellie, will you help me fix her dress?"

"Sure, baby," said Elanor. She noticed the ripped lace hem of the doll's clothing and pulled out Ma's sewing kit, perfect for little emergencies. She drew the thin thread onto a sewing needle and began work seated on the wooden floor with her sister. Just then, a frosty-looking Pa burst through the door with an armful of fresh maple logs.

"Pa!" shouted the girls, jumping up to hug their father.

"How are my little snow angels tonight?" said Pa, dropping his cargo and scooping up his daughters. The snowflakes captured in his beard glistened as they melted from the warmth building inside the log cabin.

"Maple candies? What a delightful surprise. I think I know a story about how the maple syrup we are surrounded with in these beautiful northern woods came to be...

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful dragon that produced brilliant auburn scales. He lived in the forest on the outskirts of a vast, sweeping kingdom called Realta. A place regarded as dangerous wilderness by noble folk, only the brave of heart or the down on their luck settled within his domain. Despite the reputation of such a territory, the dragon soon proved to be more of a boon than a beast to the townsfolk, flying them over streams and using his fiery breath to start their stoves burning. A pleasant consequence of the dragon's presence was that he also ran around dropping his scales, allowing the villagers to earn an income selling the wondrous trinkets at markets both near and far. The dragon was quickly befriended, and the little settlement bordering the kingdom prospered.

Soon, though, the king of Realta heard of the success of his subjects and decided to investigate for himself. When the villagers next arrived at market, the king came upon a merchant's stall and was enthralled by the unique stones.

'Peasant! Where do you procure such rich items?' the king boomed.

'I find them in the woods, sire.'

'Nonsense!' cried the arrogant king. 'No doubt they were stolen from an innocent courtier!'

'No, your majesty! Please believe me, there is a radiant beast living in the woods that drops these scales wherever it goes.'

Upon hearing this, the greedy king sent his finest knights to raid the village by the woods and slay the dragon. Though the dragon fought with fire and fury, he fell upon the earth he once roamed, and his heavy body was dragged back to the palace, scales, horns, and all. The king appreciated the heap of scales with delight. He plucked a glittering lamina from the dragon's carcass and held it high in the air, mesmerized by the spray light filtered through the translucent gem. The king didn't notice that the scale soon began to release a sweet vapor until it melted away down his hands, supple with idleness. The king tried to shake the scale from his hand, but he could not. Several knights were finally successful in prying the melted remnants off of his flesh, leaving a weeping burn behind. Terrified, the king ordered his army to throw the scales out into the forest to ooze into the land the dragon came from.

When the knights approached, the villagers hid, confused and heartbroken to see the last remains of their friend dumped all over their woodland home, believing he died for nothing. When they were sure the knights had retreated, the townspeople left their homes to salvage the scales they could, but there was nothing to be found but mounds of disturbed earth. The grieving people soon gave up their search, hoping that one day, the amber scales would turn up, at least allowing them to preserve some small memory of the brilliant dragon.

The seasons changed, and the grief changed with it. When the forest leaves began to turn yellow and red, the people saw trees rapidly spring up from the ground, growing thick and high into the sky as if they were far older than saplings. The villagers began chopping them down for firewood, but they broke open the trees to see auburn colored liquid leaking out from between the layers. They got buckets as quick as they could and held them under the flowing streams and soon found the liquid tasted sweet, pairing well with their local breakfast dishes. Legend has it the dragon's scales had become a syrup upon his death, so his old friends could have one last gift to remember him by even as the years passed that would be safe from the greed of royalty."

Elanor pulled her boiling candy off the fire and poured it out onto a sheet pan to cool, and Lacey, Pa, and she played jax on the floor while they waited for their treats. Lacey's doll eventually found itself mended. Elanor watched her syrup harden and turned a sliver of hard candy over in her hands, her own auburn scale, a little piece of joy and heaven in a dark, cold winter. She popped it into her mouth and remembered her mother.