Fairy Stories & Other Tales

A little girl watched from across the road as a tall man in a dark suit passed by the grubby old fellow who sat begging in a corner.             ‘Spare some change, sir?’ the old man had asked.             But the man in the suit kept on walking.             The same thing happened some minutes later, but this time the passerby was an elderly lady, whose cane tapped a strong tattoo as she made her way past the old man.   A sound came from her mouth that may have been a *tsk,* although she could have just been breathing.             But the little girl held no judgment.   She understood.   The suit gentleman and the elderly lady had been feeling exactly as she felt: nervous.   And they had not offered any change, for how were they to know if ...

 Once there was a little boy who climbed up a curmudgeonly oak tree. The oak tree was of a cynical, crotchety sort. Even his acorns were bitter. But the little boy didn't know this. He only knew that there was a prefect bend in the upper branches of the tree that made an excellent spot for sitting. From there he could see out into the wide world. At night he could look up into the stars. But most of the time he sat there thinking. And, occasionally, he would wonder things out loud.     'Why do the seasons have to change?' he would ask the air.     'If I were a pirate, I would sail all the seven seas at once, and even try and find an eighth one,' he would declare to the wood.     'I'd be the bravest man in the whole world, if only something scary would happen,' he'd say, with his fist raised high at nothing.     The oak tree heard all these musings. And because he was so crotchety and cynical, they annoyed him. The little b...

 Once there was an ancient willow tree who stood on the bank of a river. She was an eccentric old thing, long abandoned by any who truly cared for her — and to be left alone for too long in such a way is to let a being go a bit feral and become rather lonely. She would tangle up the hair of passersby just so she could feel the warmth of their heads. She would whip her branches round their bodies just to feel as though she were a part of something wider, something bigger, something important.     One day, an enormous gust of wind blew a fierce gale and the ancient willow's boughs became all tangled up in each other. The willow tree cried out, for the tangled branches caused her pain, but of the few who passed by, none tried to help her, for they were too relieved that her branches were out of their way and wouldn't mess with their hair or cause them to stumble as a result of her wild ways.     But then, a little girl saw the willow's branches in their m...

 Tellen was a little boy who loved the sun very much. Every morning he would stay huddled under his blankets until a ray of sunlight warmed his face, and only then would he leap out of bed and say, 'Hello sun!'     Saying hello to the sun was only the beginning of a delightful day, spent playing in the warm light, having quick chats to the sun — who was a wonderful listener — and quietly saying goodnight as the sun slipped beyond the horizon and Tellen slipped quickly under his blankets.     But when it rained, Tellen was very unhappy.     There was no warmth, nothing to draw him from his blankets, and no place to play in sunbeams. On rainy days, Tellen would stare out his window with a frown on his face, and mourn that he could not see his friend.     Then came an extraordinary day for Tellen.     It began with a sun ray that touched his face and woke him. Tellen was delighted to see the sun, for it had rai...

 When the moon went to sleep one day, she was met by the most curious dream. The universe was spinning around her slowly and at the very center of it stood a little girl with a flower.     'Why do you have that flower, little girl?' the moon asked in her dream.     The little girl twirled the flower slowly in her hand, and looked up at the moon through lashes almost as long as her nose.     'I have it to wield symphonies with. It is my conductor's baton. And when I wave it in the air, the stars all begin to sing to me,' she said.     'What do they sing?' asked the moon.     'Whatever I'd like; whatever my mood,' the girl said with a shrug. Then she leaned close toward the moon and whispered, 'Listen.'     And so the moon heard the stars burst into a symphony that contained all the songs the moon had ever heard.     'What do you think of my symphony?' the little girl asked. ...