A Cherished Classic

The other day, I really couldn’t sleep… and I fell on this bedtime story. I guess it has a special meaning for me, I mean it inspires my imagination to the point that I actually feel it. It’s as if, I am being transported by it in real time.

It starts with a young girl, Emma, who lived in the middle of an old forest among the tall pine trees. This ancient forest has always been considered sacred land, a safe haven, still vibing from the energy that confected it. She had a wooden castle all to herself, but not quite, for she was friends with birds, deers, skunks and rabbits. She would love to go apple picking and berry picking, and share all her goodies with her fluffy friends. One day as she wandered on the far edges of the forest, she arrived to a house she had never seen before. The sun was peeking through the trees in a way that made it look very inviting. She was wearing a flowery dress today and the thought crossed her mind that she may look like a little girl that didn’t have a home, like an orphan even. She also thought that this could be an interesting thought to explore, so she did. She knocked on the door with soft eyes, hands joined together, open palms, and of course, her chin slightly pulled down. A kind mature lady opened the door. They both exchanged a quick wondering gleam, and both instantly controlled it in a way that anyone else would most probably have not read it.

The lady wasn’t expecting to be playing a character, while Emma came with a purpose so she addressed first. Her voice was slightly louder than a whisper. She pleaded: “Charity please.” The kind lady replied: “Oh my dear with the cold weather today you must feel chilly out there.” By the way, the preceding moment, Emma had left her beautifully hand knitted colorful sweater behind a tree. “Hold on dear I have exactly what you need.” Emma’s eyes shone with amazement and wonder. She thought, how could it be that she knows exactly what I need, and what are the odds that she has it now in her house? The kind lady went and came back with a beautiful white scarf made from the most delicate lace. “Thank you. May your heart be blessed” Emma whispered again, as she politely reached for the fabric. Since that day, Emma wears it everywhere she goes, or at least, she wears a small piece of it. May it be as ribbon in her hair or tied up to ornate her ankle. It comforts her in the same way it would feel if being held by the caring arms of her mother.

She grew up to be a wonderful princess, and she became her, in an agile body with a brilliant creative mind. The place where she lives, in the forest, is all decorated with the paintings she made. Today, without even knowing it, she left for a new adventure. She looked at the sun and wished on it, that she would do anything to one day to meet true love. The sun replied with a golden drip that fell from the sky, which she collected into her little brown leather pouch, which her great grand-father once created, which she attached to her belt. She carries it everywhere she goes. Anytime she applies the gold substance on something, in that instant, it becomes exactly what she needs.

For example, when her shoes got old and tattered, she simply brushed a small amount of the golden paint onto her shoes, and they became a perfectly new fitted pair of pink satin covered pointe shoes. She did this carefully to many, many things in her life that needed fixing. She knew one day it’d be running low, and now she could notice that the little pouch was feeling very light.

I can hear you wondering why she just doesn’t go back to get more from that house on the far edges of the forest. She did actually. She had been back there about a week after her initial encounter. She had brought with her a basket filled with fresh baked muffins; banana with chocolate chips. She wanted to go explain to the kind lady that for real, she wasn’t an orphan, and that the scarf was probably not for her, and that perhaps they could be friends. But before she had time to arrive, she accidently dropped her basket, and the treats got covered with nasty black dust. Ashes? The scene was real. The house burned down, and all that was left was the skeleton of two partial corners that seemed to have held the wall, where the piano or perhaps the master bedframe would have been.

But what Emma didn’t know is that after she left the house the other day, the lady was checking her out through her kitchen window. She saw Emma stretching out her arm to pick up the sweater she had left on the ground behind the tree next. So strange of her, thought the lady. The lady didn’t appreciate that Emma induced her in error, although it may have been accidentally. She then heard a man’s voice coming from outside the house: “Excuse-me what’s going on in here?” Not them again, thought the lady. She was annoyed. The officer was standing in the middle of the grass with his horse. In that little open field next to the house, he seemed to be by himself. She quipped: “A little girl stopped here randomly and that’s it.” “What is the deal about the sweater and the scarf?” said the officer. “Really you were just what, hiding behind a bush, like spying on us, what’s wrong with you? She pretended she was cold so I gave her something to keep her bones warm.” And she slammed shut the living room window. It made a large noise because the wooden frame around it is thick and heavy. But the conversation was heard by some other officers in the woods. “Hey #1 there, what’s going on?” asked #2. “No I was just calling over my dog. Come on puppy let’s go” replied #1. #3 arrived in a fast gallop: “The order was given to burn all houses. Act now!”

But anyways, with regards to the liquid gold, it was all getting to good use, and being used only when deemed necessary… But her heart still hadn’t melted with love. And all that was left in the pouch was holding mostly on the inside wall of it. If only it could… In that instant, coming from the west, she saw a blue shimmer glowing in the distant sky. Hummm… What could that be? She ought to check things out, so she went ahead, packed all of her things and hiked through and out of the mystical forest, and in all, she might have walked for three days and three nights, until finally her toes reached the edge of a water passage.

Tied to a rope, there in front of her, was a boat. As soon as she boarded the vessel, she removed the rope, and it started gliding away from the land towards the endless sea. As the days went by, Wednesday arrived and since it was always fading slowly each day, today she couldn’t tell where the blue glowing shimmer was, it got completely absorbed with the grayish sky. Now IS the moment. She pulled the ribbon from her hair and swiped it in a circular motion along the edges of the pouch. She also had to rub it well to reach the paint that was held by the thickness of the leather’s inner layer. There, this is as much as I can do. She let the golden ribbon slip through her fingers and away with the wind it went. She heard an owl screech at a distance. She squinted her eyelids to the sky. It called right beside her, and she froze like a tree, for he had just landed on her shoulder.

She called him “Mr. Who”. He couldn’t talk but at least she could talk with him, so he made a good friend. After explaining to him how delighted she was with the idea of travelling together everywhere they go, she explained of how fun it was to ride the boat at cruising speed. By the way, since the moment they started talking, the boat was stopped dead in the center of the big blue sea. And there they sat. “Are we stuck here?” she asked. She didn’t move an inch because she knew there was plain nothing around them, except from the boat. Mr. Who turned his neck to the right, then to the left, then even backwards. He was animated, called into a new mission, he started flying. At first, in small circles, and bigger circles, and even bigger circles, to see if, he could see anything. She watched him increase the size of the circles until she couldn’t see him anymore.

The next morning, at dawn, she sees a little spot on the horizon. She keeps watching as it gets bigger and bigger until she can see; it is a man swimming towards the boat. She helps him climb aboard. He explains how he woke up stranded on a raft with no sails, and tells about the owl that broke him free, on the night that he was about to give up hope. A moment before, he wished upon the full moon for help and in that instant, a flake of the moon, like a feather, fell down into a little pouch that he wore around his belt.

Then we both laugh realizing that we each had a little pouch. I just felt so happy to be with him. He said he still had the moon flake in his, and said he hadn’t tried anything with it yet. I got confused for a moment but didn’t know where the confusion came from. Probably from the fact that I thought he used it when he wished to be free. For me the moon flake was more like an artefact he carried with him in his pouch, just like the dry paint that remains in mine. If I ever see him again, it would be interesting to mix them together and see what it creates. It would probably be something powerful like a gliding boat towards a beautiful village by the sea where we could live together and be best friends forever.

It’s a real bedtime story because each time I hear it, I can’t help myself but fall asleep and fall deeper into the valley of dreams. And every night, I make it my bedtime story, and every dream makes it even more real, that sometimes I doubt if the dream is reality or if reality is the dream.