Wendy

I wrote this little fairy story in 2002 - and I warn you, it fizzles out a little at the end. There was a reason for writing it, but it was a long time ago:)

Right - it is 1:46 am and I am off to bed. Wherever you may be - be safe!

Wendy was five and lived in a small, ramshackle cottage. The house was cold; the wind barged in through cracks in the windows and snuck under the doors. The much repaired roof leaked whenever it rained.

Firewood was a luxury, the nearest forest was miles away across rugged and dangerous terrain. Every week a man would come around selling firewood, but Wendy's mum was rarely able to raise the money to buy what was needed to protect them from the biting chill.

Once, when Wendy had a bad cold, her mother did what she had to to keep Wendy warm. She never forgot the evil, satisfied smile of the woodman as he left her room.

Wendy knew things were hard, she had seen her mother crying when she thought she wasn't looking, heard her sobs when she thought she was asleep.

One morning after her mother had dressed her in whatever clothes she had managed to put together, she looked at herself in an old broken mirror.

"One day I am going to be a beautiful Princess." Wendy vowed there and then that she would repeat the same ritual every day. "If I do it long enough, some day it will surely happen," she would tell herself

"One day I am going to be a beautiful Princess"

Sometimes her mother would see and hear her in front of the mirror. She would smile through tears and hug her tightly and tell her, "My child, you are already a beautiful Princess to me". But Wendy knew she was not beautiful. She had seen the pointing fingers of the small boys in the village, heard their scornful laughter, and flinched at their words as pointed as daggers.

***

One day Wendy heard a knock on the door. She ignored it and finished the sentence, "One day I am going to be a beautiful Princess" she had kept her vow for twenty years.

She ran a finger through her grimy hair, then checked on her mother who was lying in bed, unable to move and racked with a persistent cough. She mopped her mother's brow and assured her everything would be all right. The knock came again.

She opened the door to find a stranger. Although he was soaked by the torrential rain, she could see he was handsome - a tall, fine figure of a man.

The stranger looked around the small room, saw the leaking roof, heard her mothers cough and smelled the smell of approaching death.

"I fear I have disturbed you, but I am a stranger to your land, I am lost and seeking shelter from the storm. Perhaps it was wrong of me to trouble you so" He bowed slightly and turned to walk away.

"Please, you can not go back into the storm, please come in." He turned and saw Wendy's smile, a smile that overcame his hesitation, a smile that came straight from the heart.

He sat on a rickety old chair while Wendy fussed with bits of cloth to dry him. He hugged himself tightly for the room was cold and no fire burned in the fireplace.

For lack of a fire, she could not dry his clothes, but with gentle persuasion she managed to get him to shed his soaking garments and gave him the blanket from her bed. She was used to the cold, but she could tell from his hands and from his manner, that the man was not accustomed to such harshness.

He had decided to travel from the neighbouring land, wandering in whatever direction took his fancy, but he had became lost in the forest so far away. His horse could not cope with the rugged terrain and when it slipped and injured his foreleg, the stranger sadly had no option but to use an arrow to end his misery.

As he related his story, he saw tears appear in her eye. Amongst her squalor and misery she stood weeping for a horse she did not know and felt the sorrow of a stranger.

For hours, and despite his protestations, she fussed around making him as comfortable as she could. She tended to her mother, sitting by her bed, talking to her gently, telling her stories she probably could not hear.

He was touched by the warmth of her soul and as she passed he said quietly, "You are beautiful"

She laughed, a laugh filled with many contrasting emotions. She was not beautiful she told him, "I am old before my time, dressed in rags, my hair dirty and nothing to offer" She told him of her ritual, and how stupid she was to do such a thing.

The mans demeanour changed, he seemed to become angry. He had seen many ugly people in his time, ugly in manner and deeds, and here standing before him, was a beautiful human being mocking her very being.

He reached out and grabbed her.

"You are beautiful," he told her, "You are a kind wonderful woman"

She began to cry and wanted to argue, but was too weak to resist.

When he finished scolding her, she wiped the tears from her eyes and looked at him. There was no anger or malice in his eyes, only concern. She had never been scolded before, but sometimes when her mother felt she had done something that would put her in danger, her mother would wag a finger.

As the stranger hugged her, she knew he had scolded her because he genuinely cared. She cried harder than she had ever cried on her life, for she was feeling the warmth and concern of a stranger.

The next day the stranger left. Nothing more was said, but what was left unspoken was more powerful than anything either of them could ever say.

For a short time, the stranger had brought an unexpected happiness to her life. But she had learned to be a realist and there was work to be done.

*****

Many days had passed since the arrival of the man from another land, and although Wendy thought about him and what had happened, she would not allow herself to wade in the Sea Of Things That Will Never Be.

The house had been damaged in the storm, the roof leaked even more; the door had fallen of its hinges and was now merely resting unattached to the wall.

She stood in front of the mirror, looked at herself and began to say the words she had repeated every day for twenty years. But this time she stopped and started to cry. The Sea Of Things That Will Never Be, had called her name, and this time she was powerless to refuse it's call.

She slumped to her knees and buried her head in her hands, weeping uncontrollably. Then, a soft hand touched her gently on the shoulder.

She turned, looked up, and saw the stranger standing with another man - both were dressed in fine expensive clothes. The man who had once sat shivering in the room with an old worn out blanket around him, looked even more handsome than before.

"Who are you?" she asked trying hard to control her sobs, for now she felt more ugly and dirty than she had ever felt before.

"I am Prince Alexander from the land across the river, and this gentleman is my personal physician, he will tend to your mother"

He took her hand and she felt something pressing in her palm. She looked and saw a beautiful gold ring, encrusted with the most beautiful, glittering diamonds" The Prince smiled and spoke again.

"And I hope and pray that you Wendy, will consent to be my beautiful Princess"