A Holiday Fairy Tale, The Finale
There wasn’t time to consider Greta’s question. Maria called through the cavern, her voice echoing.
“You are free, creatures! Go! Find your families.”
The menagerie of humans and animals alike assembled before Greta and the women, confusion etched on their faces.
“Go? Go where?” asked the wolf.
“Go home! You have been kept here too long.”
An owl trained his wizened eyes on them.
“Where is Hilda? She is our friend. We only listen to her.”
“Your friend?” Maria asked. “She has kept you prisoners. Now you may return home.”
Still confused, the creatures shifted and stamped their feet with uncertainty.
“But Hilda takes care of us. She feeds us and tells us the most beautiful stories. And when we are sick, she makes us medicine and we get well,” an otter said.
Others murmured in agreement.
“Hilda would never hurt us. She loves us. Find Hilda. She will tell you. We don’t want to leave her. This is our home.”
“Oh, dear,” sighed Maria. She nudged Hilda forward. “This is Hilda.” The creatures gasped.
“That is not Hilda!” A rabbit shouted and others agreed.
“It is Hilda. I promise you,” said Maria. “Close your eyes and listen to her speak. Then open your eyes, and you will see that the voice you know so well resides in the woman standing before you. Go on. Close them.”
The creatures obeyed, and at Maria’s urging, Hilda told a story about three goats and a troll. As she spoke, the creatures opened their eyes in disbelief.
“Hilda?” the owl whispered.
“Yes,” Hilda croaked, her shoulders drooped in shame.
“You look so different,” said the owl.
“Yes,” said Hilda. “This is how I really look. I cast a spell that made me look beautiful and made Maria look ugly. I lured you into my chalet, and I have been giving you potions in your food to make you enamored with me and forgetful of your families. I have come to care deeply for all of you. You have become a family to me. I was so lonely, and no one would visit with me when I looked as I do now; but I am ashamed of what I have done.”
Puzzled, the owl said, “I don’t remember anything before this place. I have been content here. I have seen creatures who are normally foes become friends. I have seen Hilda care for all of us as though we are her kin. Hilda, how could this be true? And how long before this potion wears off? It must be a very powerful potion, indeed.”
“It will wear off after supper time, when you do not receive the next dose in your food.”
“Then I guess we must wait.” The owl stretched and fluttered his wings impatiently.
“I would offer you to come upstairs, but there is not enough room in my chalet and it is much more comfortable down here. I will go, so you may wait in peace.” Defeated, Hilda turned to leave.
“Wait!” Commanded the stag. “Won’t you at least stay with us until then?”
Hilda paused. “I would not think that any of you would choose to spend time with me after what I have done. And especially with how I now look. How can you even bear to be in the same room with such ugliness?”
“But I don’t think you are ugly,” replied the stag, and the other animals murmured their agreement.
“That is just the potion doing its job. Later, you will look upon me with revulsion. You will run from me in terror. You will forget that we were family. You will leave me forever.” Sadness weighed in the hunch of Hilda’s shoulders, the bow of her head, the shimmer in her eyes. She crossed her arms protectively around herself, tucking away her blackened hands. “Maria will feed you her soup for dinner. I will say goodbye to you now and hide myself away so that your eyes will not suffer from the sight of me as you leave. Please know, dear friends, that you have brought me the only joy I have known since I lost my family in the fire. I will never forget you, though I am sure you will soon forget me.”
No one spoke as Hilda slowly wound her way up the dark, stone, stairway. Greta found she was clasping tightly to Maria’s hand, a tear tracing its way down her cheek.
Maria wrapped her arms around Greta and gave her a light squeeze.
“All will be well, little one,” she reassured her. “Let us get to work. We will need a lot of soup.”
So, Greta and Maria spent the day chopping and cooking over the fire and delivering steaming bowls of soup down into the cavern. As evening arrived, nervous excitement hung in the air. The animals became restless, eager, and perhaps a bit apprehensive about the coming hours.
As Greta brought the last bowl of soup from Maria’s cottage, Hilda emerged from the woods grasping a large roll of parchment in her disfigured hand. Greta shied away, still leery of what the witch might do.
“You need not fear me, child,” Hilda said, resigned. “My days of scheming are behind me. I will not hurt you. I have drawn a map for the creatures so that they may find their paths back to their families. Will you take it to them, please?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Greta. “Would you like some soup?” She offered Hilda the bowl in exchange for the parchment. Hilda took the bowl and Greta met her eyes. Melancholy lingered in their depths. Hilda sat on a stump and tipped the bowl to her mouth while Greta stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do.
“You should go. Take the map to the cavern. I will finish the soup and tuck myself away until everyone is gone. Please,” Hilda rasped shakily, “tell Maria I am sorry. She has been kinder to me than I ever deserved. She is a good person. That is why people are so drawn to her. Goodness knows its not because of her looks. I never understood how we were dealt similar hands yet everyone loved her. She even had marriage proposals! I could not even get someone to let me help them; but there she was surrounded by friends and family. No one seemed to care what she looked like.”
Greta was confused.
“Whatever do you mean?”
Hilda eyed her strangely. “Maria. She is as deformed as I am, only no one seems to notice.”
“I did not notice,” Greta admitted, and Hilda looked perplexed. “When I first came upon you in the garden I noticed that she was not beautiful, like you were; but her eyes held such warmth, and her voice was pure and kind. That is what drew me to her.”
“And my eyes?”
Greta blinked. “Cold. Your smile did not reach them. You voice was insincere. Your posture was unwelcoming despite your words.”
“You are a very perceptive child. And what of Maria’s flaws now?”
“I do not know what you speak of. Maria is beautiful.”
“Gah!” Hilda spat. “It makes no sense! Even after all this time I cannot figure it out. She is ugly, like I am, but her life is the complete opposite of mine. It is unbearable to think about, sometimes. I don’t believe I will ever understand.” she sighed, despondent. “And now, I will return to my solitary existence.” The witch stood and set the bowl on the stump. She gazed at Greta, then retreated into the dark forest.
Greta retrieved the empty bowl and went back to Maria’s chalet, filled a clean bowl, and crossed the yard back to Hilda’s. She made her way down the stairs to the cavern and delivered the soup, the map tucked under her arm. She found Maria sitting on a flat rock, surrounded by creatures. Greta could tell that they already trusted Maria. They sat close to her and listened intently to her words. Greta used her vantage point to study Maria. A light seemed to emanate from her, exuding warmth, safety, and calm. Her voice soothed, her soft hands reassured, her presence quieted the restless.
Greta studied Maria more closely, still, searching for the ugliness that Hilda had referred to. The wart was gone on Maria’s nose, though Greta noticed now, the nose was quite long and misshapen. Her teeth were not black with rot, but neither were they straight and pure white. There was even one tooth missing on the side; but when Maria smiled it was as though the sun shone. It dazzled those around her, as did her laugh, which was sure to bring a smile to anyone nearby.
Greta then realized that one of Maria’s ears was missing. Perhaps her hair had been covering it before? But no, Maria had always been wearing her hair pulled back in a thin braid, patches of her scalp showing through.
Just then Maria stood, beckoning Greta forward. It was then that Greta saw the odd angle of Maria’s shoulders, the hunch in her back, the limp in her gait. How had these things gone unnoticed? How had Greta thought Maria to be the most beautiful woman she had ever seen?
“Are you alright, Greta?” Maria asked with concern.
That is when Greta understood why she had felt that way. There was such goodness in Maria, such positive energy, such light, and beneficence, that one could hardly notice anything else. She was magnetic. Being in Maria’s presence was like bathing in a sunbeam. While Hilda’s beauty enchantment had initially overwhelmed the senses it did not last. If only the others had taken a moment to engage with Maria, Greta was certain that curse or not, Maria would have drawn them all in.
It made Greta sad to think of how dismissive of Maria they had all been, simply because of Hilda’s beauty; but it also made her sad to think of the cruelty Hilda had suffered and the loneliness that had created such desperation in her. When she got home, she knew she would speak of it to her mother and try to make sense of it all. This thought brought Greta out of her reverie with a start, and she finally answered Maria’s question.
“Yes, I am alright. Thank you. I was just missing my mother, is all.”
“Goodness! Of course, you are! We need to get you home.”
“Hilda gave me this,” Greta said, and handed Maria the map.
Maria unrolled the parchment and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Come, friends. Let us study this so you may find your paths home.”
The creatures hunched over the map, and soon there were exclamations of remembrance.
A hare shouted, “Of course! Under the hedgerow!”
A fox muttered, “Ah. One of my dens was there. We have many, you know.” He eyed a wolf suspiciously.
As Maria and Greta watched memories return to beast and man, the last of the potion wore off. Animals that had recently been friends now backed away, wary of sharp jaws and claws. A skirmish broke out. Maria struggled to gain control of the situation and finally prevailed, her voice firm but warm.
“Friends,” she said. “I cannot imagine how disorienting this is for all of you, but you must remain calm. Remember! You have lived in harmony for many weeks. Some for years. We will get you all safely back to the forest and back to your families. Let us go in order from largest to smallest. Please, say goodbye to each other with love and kindness in your hearts and take that love and kindness back to the forest with you.”
Everyone calmed at Maria’s words, and soon a line formed. A bear, the stag, a horse, the wolf- they circled up the stairway behind Maria, who showed them the map once more when they arrived outside. The purplish hues of dusk enveloped the trees and tinted the snow lilac. The bear caught a scent, and she stretched her neck long, her nostrils flaring.
“It is Hilda’s scent. She is near,” said the bear. “I would like to see her before I go.”
“Do you seek to harm her?” asked Maria.
“No. Only to speak with her.”
“Very well. Hilda? Please come out. The bear would like to speak to you,” Maria called.
There was a crunching of snow and snapping of twigs as Hilda emerged from the forest. She paused near the tree stump and folded her arms protectively across her chest.
The bear approached Hilda; its massive body taut. She smelled the air all around the witch, committing the scent to her memory.
“What you did, is unforgivable. The time we have missed with our families, the worry this will have caused them, the dishonesty you employed cannot be undone.”
Hilda bowed her head in shame, tears pouring down her face.
“It would be appropriate for you to spend the rest of your days alone in this place as punishment for your cruel actions.”
Hilda, staring at the ground, nodded in agreement.
“I am sorry,” she whispered.
The bear stared hard at her, then sighed.
“But I will remember your kindness to me. When I arrived, I was injured. A piece of metal was lodged in my paw and had grown infected. You stayed with me and you healed me, and during our time together, you became my friend. Just because the potion has worn off doesn’t mean I have forgotten. And perhaps,” the bear continued, “I may return with my sister when she is stung by the bees. She becomes very ill whenever we harvest honey.”
Hilda looked up in surprise.
“Yes, of course,” she stammered.
“Very well,” said the bear. She placed a heavy paw on Hilda’s shoulder. “Until then.” The bear set off into the woods.
The horse approached next and said, “I had an abscessed tooth when I arrived. I had been in so much pain I could barely eat. You healed me, and while I recovered you told me stories and rubbed behind my ears. While I won’t forget your betrayal, I will remember your gentle touch. After I return to my stable, I will guide my rider here to meet you, and you can explain your gift of healing. She has been seeking a healer for some time.” The horse brought his soft muzzle down to the witch’s nose. Slowly, the witch leaned her forehead against his, then brought her blackened hands behind his ears and rubbed gently.
“Until then,” the horse said breaking away and trotting into the woods.
One by one the creatures faced the witch, some with harsh words, some with sadness, but all with a story of kindness the witch had bestowed upon them, and each with a request to return if there was ever a need for her healing skills. The witch openly sobbed, the creatures’ kindness amplifying her shame.
The very last of the creatures was a cat. She had sleek, black fur and bright green eyes and she padded to the witch and sat before her, the tip of her tail swishing in the snow.
“My name is Noir. Do you remember me?”
“Of course, I remember you,” Hilda replied.
“I was the first of the creatures in the cavern. I had fled there after naughty children chased me. They believed that I was evil, due to the color of my fur. I survived by keeping the cavern free of rodents, and when you brought the others to stay you also brought me a dish of milk. As you tended to their ailments, I rubbed my face along your legs and wound my body between your feet. As you told them stories I curled up in your lap and you stroked my back, and I purred in contentment. You whispered sweet words in my ears and caressed my face lovingly. I could not wait for your visits, for you gave me the companionship I so desperately longed for after many months alone. You were my only true friend, and I trusted you implicitly.”
Hilda was stricken with remorse. “If only I hadn’t ruined it with the potion. Perhaps we really could have true been friends.”
“But we are true friends, Hilda. I never had any potion. I provided my own meals, and you did not put any potion in my milk. I saw you for who you were from the start, and despite what you did, I saw the genuine compassion that you showed to all of the creatures in your care. I know what loneliness feels like. I know the desperation it can cause. I know how cruel the world can be. I also know the comfort that you gave me.”
“You gave me great comfort as well, Noir,” said Hilda.
“I don’t want to leave, Hilda. You are my family. May I stay with you?”
Hilda collapsed to her knees, weeping with joy. She opened her arms and Noir leapt into them, purring and nuzzling and kneading her claws into Hilda’s cape.
Maria stepped forward and put a hand on Hilda’s shoulder. “I must take Greta home. The hour grows late.”
“Yes, of course,” Hilda replied shakily. “Do you know the way?”
“We have studied the map and I believe we will find the path home.”
Hilda got to her feet, gently placing Noir on the ground. “Maria, I am sorry. I am sorry for the time you have missed with your family. I am sorry for the pain I have caused. I am sorry for everything. Before you go, I must thank you.”
“Thank me?”
“You have taught me so much and you have finally freed me from my self-inflicted prison. I have carried tremendous guilt for what I did, but my fear and selfishness prevented me from making things right. I did not know how to undo what I had done. Things spiraled out of control. Now I am free. The light you carry with you shines on those around you, and now I carry some of that light with me. I know you do not consider me a friend, but I shall miss you, Maria.”
Maria bent to scratch Noir’s chin.
“Take good care of her, Noir. She has needed a friend like you.” Noir purred and nuzzled his head against Maria’s hand. Maria straightened and pulled Hilda’s blackened hand into her own soft grip. “I forgive you, Hilda. Perhaps one day, after I have soaked in the love of the family and friends I have so missed, I shall visit. Until then, do not wallow in the past. You have a companion. You have a gift for healing. I believe news of your gift will travel and you will have more visitors than you know what to do with. Use your gift well, and you shall never be lonely again.”
“Thank you, Maria,” Hilda whispered. “And you, child,” she said to Greta. “You have a gift as well, especially for one so young. Go and teach others to see people the way you do: to look past the exterior and seek the truth. To not judge and dismiss but question and be curious. To be thoughtful. Go now, before it is too dark.”
They said goodbye, and soon Greta was reunited with her family. Her mother held her in her arms and could scarcely believe the tale Greta shared. Maria travelled many hours more before she, too, was reunited with her family. A grand feast was prepared in honor of her return and Maria danced and laughed long into the following night before finally collapsing into her soft, feather bed.
By noon the following day, Hilda was in the garden pulling herbs and bits for her potions. These potions, though, were not for enchantments, but for ailments. When she had awoken that morning with Noir curled into a ball on the pillow next to her, a group of animals had already assembled outside, awaiting treatments for various injuries or illnesses. There was a steady stream of patients all day, and the day after that, and the day after that. In fact, Hilda and Noir were never lonely again.
The End