A Holiday Fairytale, Part Two
When Greta stepped through the blanket door, she gasped in amazement. The chalet was bursting with charm. A fire blazed in the hearth. A pot of bubbling soup hung from a hook over the flames sending a delicious aroma through the air. Lanterns set the room aglow, revealing overstuffed chairs, shelves full of books, and vases of flowers. As promised, a bed of thick moss lay near the fire. Maria gestured for Greta to sit, and when Greta obliged, Maria wrapped her in a blanket made of the softest wool. Soon Greta was sipping soup while Maria recited a fairytale about a witch who cursed a princess to loneliness. Greta’s eyes became heavy, and she snuggled down into the thick moss bed. As she drifted off, Greta thought that Maria didn’t look nearly so awful as when she had first seen her. In fact, if you looked past the scars and the wart and the blackened teeth, she was actually quite pretty. Particularly when Greta looked into Maria’s eyes, she saw beauty unlike any she had seen before.
As morning light burst through the windows, Greta woke, disoriented. The fire burned low in the hearth, little more than glowing embers. Rather than the smell of soup, the chalet was filled with the smell of sweet porridge, and Greta’s tummy rumbled, and her mouth watered. She sat up, yawning, and stretched her arms above her head. Her family would be worried about her, she knew, so she tidied the bed and folded the soft blanket. She washed the dishes from the night before and set the kitchen to rights. She padded to the doorway, feeling a draft of cold air from behind the blanket. As she reached for her boots, the blanket opened, and a woman entered. Greta quickly stepped back, for this woman was stunningly beautiful, and at first, Greta thought it was Hilda and she was frightened.
“Good morning, Greta,” said the woman, and Greta recognized the melodic voice. She looked into the woman’s eyes and saw the sincerity, kindness, and beauty from the night before.
“Maria?” Greta stammered.
Maria bent to Greta and clasped her hands within her own. Greta felt the familiar soft warmth and she smiled.
“It’s me,” Maria said. “I must thank you. You have broken the curse.”
“The curse?”
“Yes. Many years ago, I became lost in the forest and came upon a witch. She gave me shelter in her chalet, offering me stew and a chance to warm myself by the fire. As I ate, she asked about my life, and I shared how I was a princess. I had many brothers and sisters and attended many parties and balls. I was always surrounded by people, I said, and though I’d had many offers of marriage I had declined them all, for I was content to be surrounded by the people I loved most. As I told the witch more about my life, she became quiet, then agitated. She offered me tea, and though I declined, I soon found myself sipping a bitter tasting brew from a mug she pressed into my hands. I grew tired and fell asleep. When I awoke the next morning, my skin was scarred. My teeth were blackened. My hair turned gray, and a wart grew on my nose. The witch told me that people were horribly unkind, and no one would want to be in my company again. She was jealous, you see, because people had always been unkind to her, simply because of how she looked. Creatures were always getting lost in this part of the forest, she explained, and even though she would offer them shelter, they would decline, too disgusted by her appearance to accept her kindness. The witch cursed me to look hideous for eternity unless one lost being chose to stay in my chalet for one full night. Then, to make it impossible, she turned herself into a beautiful woman and her hut into a beautiful chalet, though something went wrong, and she was unable to transform our voices and hands.”
Day after day, the lost ones came to our clearing, and day after day they chose her and her hut and were never seen again. Even the search party sent to look for me chose her hut, for they did not look me in the eye.
Years went by, and though from time to time I became forlorn, I refused to lose hope. It was disappointing to see how many would pass over a kind heart simply because of some scars and a wart. And then, you arrived, Greta. My heart leapt when you looked into my eyes. My hope soared when you spoke to me. And when you clasped my hand and did not pull away, I knew the time had come at last. I knew that you would break the curse and prove the witch wrong.
Greta was contemplative as she listened.
“What will happen now?” she asked.
“I will help you find your family, and then I will find mine. But first, we must help Hilda.”
“Hilda? The witch? Why would you help her?”
“We will help her to see again.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Come with me, Greta. We have much to do.”