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The Troll and the Toymaker, Part 3

Horace went lightly into the woods. He had been told roughly where to find this troll like creature. As he came near to the spot, he heard a twig snap and before he could turn around he was tackled and thrown to the ground. He struggled to get up but was held fast by large, red muscular arms. Before he could think of what to do he was released. When he was upon his feet and turned around he found himself staring directly into the angry face of an enormous, but just smaller than him, red troll! He had never seen another troll in his life and Horace was beside himself with excitement. His world was changed once again.

"What are you doing in my woods?!" screamed the red troll. "The people of the village told me how they had been terrified and chased from the woods by a magnificent red creature of great size and strength." Horace noticed a slight smile from the red troll as she heard his words. He intended them as a compliment. It quickly vanished as she said, "What on earth have you to do with people? You know and speak peacefully with people? Human people?!" Horace could see all the pain and confusion in her face and he remembered his time of coming to know the village people. He had forever been chased away and even hunted by people. Horace knew that this poor lonely creature was likely subjected to the same treatment and had similar feelings as he once did.

He sat down and offered her some cake that he had brought just in case such a thing as this might happen. Horace told this new red troll face all that had happened to him and what he had done. When he spoke of being chased from a cliff he could see in her eyes the same feeling of fear and anger. When he had finally finished his story and the cake was eaten, this red troll sat back and was silent. She said, "I have never seen another troll in my life. I have always been feared and chased. I have just left the south to find a place where I could live in peace when I was discovered just yesterday. Now, today I see you, another troll, and you tell me that people can be good. People have always been horrible to me. How can I trust what you are saying is true?" Horace said, "I lived in fear of people for long as well, but I have found they are capable of great good. The old woman, the Old Toymaker, showed me that people are very good, but they can become afraid and let anger drive them. I've come to see that I was the same as that. There is much we trolls have in common with people. When they are not fearful, they are full of joy and throw themselves into life, especially the children."

Horace continue to speak of his good fortune with the village people, and that she could have good fortune as well. The red troll was uneasy and did not wish to see the people. Horace felt that what was needed was a visit from the best people he knew, the children and the Old Toymaker. Horace felt that it was time to let this new friend have some time to think and bid his leave. He promised he would return the next day and left.

When he returned to the village, he spoke with the elders and recounted the visit. The people understood now that there was indeed another troll and, while some were concerned for the safety of the village, they trusted Horace and his advice that this red troll could be a friend as he is now. He asked if some children could come and meet this red troll. The elders were afraid, but Horace promised and the Old Toymaker said she would go as well. It was agreed.

The next day Horace returned to the forest and found the red troll once again. This time he came with four children and the old toy maker, all carried upon his shoulders. He called to the red troll, "Come out and see me. I am here, and I have brought friends!" From behind a tree, the red troll face peeped out. "Come and meet these friends of mine. I want to show you how nice they are." He let them all down gently and a small girl walked out slowly to the red troll asking, "Why don't you come out of from behind the tree? I want to show you my doll that Horace made for me." "But who is Horace?" the red troll asked. There were a few giggles from the children as they pointed to Horace. "What's your name?", the little girl asked. The red troll looked down and said, "I haven't got a name." "Well, you need a name", said the girl. "How can you talk with anyone if you haven't got a name? Every one will just call out, "Hey you there!"" At that, there were a few more giggles and the red troll asked, "How do you get a name?" The little girl explained that parents or grandparents usually give the names, but Horace interrupted knowing that the red troll didn't likely know her parents, and explained that he got his name from being as strong as a horse. The children laughed and so did Horace. The red troll asked if she could have a name. Horace said that she had the strength of a gale blowing across the sea when she tackled him, and the Old Toymaker said, "That's perfect! How about Gayle?" The red troll smiled at the thought of having a name, and she did like the sound of Gayle. From that point on, the children called her Gayle.

Gayle agreed to come to the village. The little girl was particularly fond of Gayle and so walked with her most of the way. As they talked of her doll and how it was made, Gayle began to feel lighter. She began to relax and soon forgot that she was approaching a human village. As the village people saw the group approaching, they came out to greet them. Seeing all in good spirits, the people greeted their children. It was clear to them that this red troll was indeed of the same ilk as Horace. It was clear to them that she was in fact a good troll that had been treated badly. Gayle was introduced to the village and it was suggested that a dinner would be had in the square to celebrate her arrival. Horace and the Old Toymaker were very pleased and the look on Gayle's face told them that she was as well.

The dinner was a feast and all ate well. During the meal it began to sprinkle rain and someone remarked a roof over some part of the square for meals would be good. Horace quickly volunteered himself and Gayle to build a roof. Also, Gayle was amazed at all the flavors of the food, especially the dessert. There was the same cake that Horace had shared with her and there was this new thing called "pie". Gayle began to question how pies were made and two of the bakers agreed to show Gayle how to make pies herself.

The next day, Horace and Gayle set to work on building the roof. As the trolls were so large and so strong, they could fell a tree and turn it into lumber very quickly. Horace was strong, but with the two of them the people could not believe how they could lift the huge beams with such ease. The roof over the square was done in two day's time. Horace fell to carving the posts and in a day it was beautiful. Horace had been in high demand before, but when the village people saw how quickly the two trolls built the roof, the favors came pouring in. Mrs. Dell had a fence needing repair. Mr. Stark's barn was falling down. As the trolls worked and did these favors for the people, they felt so good helping the people. The more they worked, the better they felt. They had never lived for anyone but themselves and now they could help others. It should be noted that this help did not go unnoticed and the people who asked for favors repaid the trolls with fine meals and Gayle received new clothes from fine home spun wool. Despite the offers of shoes and boots, the trolls preferred to go barefoot.

During this time, Gayle was able to learn to make pies. She could barely fit into the bakers kitchen, but she quickly grasped how to make a pie. She remembered the plants of the forest used to add flavor to her forest meals, and so she ran quickly to the forest to grab them. She brought back mint, huckleberry and honeysuckle and experimented with pie making late into the evening, so late that the bakers had to turn out the lights to let Gayle know the day was done. Although, during one day as she was tasting a pie, it was so hot that she burned her tongue.  She was so surprised that she jumped and broke a hole in the roof of the kitchen.  Gayle repaired that quickly enough and from then on always waited for the pies to cool before tasting.  

The next day, Gayle spent the entire day making pies. In fact, she had made over a hundred pies! When the village people had finished their work in the fields and shops, they couldn't help but come for Gayle's pies. They were the most delicious pies they had ever eaten. All were surprised how such delicate crust could be made with such large strong troll hands. As they ate, Horace marveled. The Old Toymaker seeing Horace smiled. Yes, it had turned out well. The horrible red terror in the woods was misunderstood, but with some wisdom and some care the village people and the trolls were so much for the better.

The Troll and the Toymaker, Part 2

The Troll knew the ways of the woods.  He knew the plants and which are best eaten and which are not.   He began to think of the beautifully carved wooden horse and that those who chased him into the sea must surely find such creations valuable.  The Troll found just the vine he was after.  It had no scent or taste but, if handled, it would make one quite ill.  In his heart, he truly wished no harm, but his mind was clouded with anger. He could not hear his heart.

He began carving all manner of forest creatures and covering the carvings with the nectar of the vine.  He had to use leaves of other plants to apply this nectar to protect his own hands lest he himself become ill from touching it.  After he had made many of these wooden creatures, he filled his bag with them and sought to make himself a disguise so he would look more like those who had chased him away.  The Troll spun flax and made a large weave to cover himself and to cover his head.  It was large enough to cover his whole body so that he could stoop to be the size of an ordinary human.  He covered his skin with white spores.  He looked at his reflection in a pool, added more spun flax of a lighter colour to cover his head, and was quite pleased with his disguise.  Still, he was very wide, but he thought little of this and headed to the village early the next morning.

The Troll came to the village and called out in a sing song voice that he had wooden animals.  The children were very interested as the disguised troll began to take out the wooden creations.  As the children gathered, so did the parents.  They all admired the handy work of this mysterious carver.  Even the Old Toymaker came to see and did admire the creations.  When asked where did he come from, the Troll answered in a high voice like a bird that he had come from beyond the forest.  When asked if he had seen a troll, he said he had not.  The people of the village hearing the high voice and the flaxen locks began to call the troll an old woman.  The troll handed out all of the toys to the village children and saw they were happy as they ran off to play.  The Old Toymaker asked how the mysterious old woman had come to be such a wonderful carver.  As the troll answered, his heart began to feel heavy.  He knew the children would become ill from handling the toys but forced his mind to remember being chased by fire.  The Old Toymaker invited the troll to her shop, the troll became more anxious with each step.  As he stepped inside the shop he was amazed to see so many wonderful creations.  

It was full of carved figures.  Some were in the shapes of animals he recognized and some were beasts he'd never seen.  There were tools everywhere.  There were even soft dolls that were wonderful to touch.  The troll marveled at the wonderful creations and was unaware that with each step he was treading upon his cloak.  With each step, his large green troll body was becoming exposed.  The Old Toymaker was no fool and quickly realized that this was the troll that had been chased away the previous day.  Still, the Old Toymaker said nothing.  She only waited for the troll to realize his cloak was on the floor.  The troll realized soon enough and was unsure of what to do when the Old Toymaker asked what the troll was doing with the bundle of the children's things just before the villagers chased him into the sea.  The troll explained and the Old Toymaker shook her head.  She knew the people of the village were easily frightened and quick to judge.  She told the troll to put his cloak back on and to stay in the shop.  She told him she would find a way to help the people of the village to know that the troll was a good soul.  Now the troll remembered the wooden toys he had given out.  He began to feel terrible that the children could become sick because of his anger.  He realized is folly and told the toymaker the whole story.  She listened carefully and scolded him for letting his anger get the best of him.  She asked if there was anything he could do.  The troll knew what would turn back the effects of the sickening vine, but he would need to leave quickly to make it.  They devised a plan and the old woman quickly lead the disguised troll out of the village. 

Once out of the village, the troll ran as fast as he could, leaving his disguise in a hollowed tree as he could run much faster with out it.  Trolls can run fast, very fast.  In the times of old, trolls used to run and catch their horses by the tail.  In no time at all, the troll had found the leafy green fragrant clump he was looking for and in no time at all had made his special brew.  He carried it in an earthen jug and ran to the village, putting on his cloak and flaxen locks along the way.   The disguised Troll and the Old Toymaker called upon each of the villagers in their homes.  Some children had began to feel ill and so the old troll treated them with his healing brew and also took back the toys with a promise to return them the next day.  And so it was for each house they visited.  None of the children felt ill for long.  For the healing worked just as the Troll knew it would. 

All the carved toys had been accounted for and once back at the Old Toymaker's shop, the Troll quickly began to make new toys.  He had such a joy using the tools of the Old Toymaker and she marveled at how quickly and finely the Troll could work with such large hands.  The Troll worked all night until he had remade each carving.  He was particularly good at carving horses.  The Old Toymaker suggested he rest  after each of the toys had been redelivered.  This was good advice as the Troll had not slept since the night before last.  After the toys were delivered, he lay down and fell into a deep sleep.

When he awoke, the Old Toymaker told him her plan.  He was frightened but agreed.  Shortly after, the Old Toymaker went into the square and called all the village people.  She reminded the village people of the troll they had chased into the sea.  She reminded them of the bundle the Troll carried.  She explained that he was bringing the children's belongings back and that this was evidence of the good in him.  Many disbelieved, but the Old Toymaker persisted.  She told them that the troll didn't die in the sea and that the troll in great anger had come disguised as an old woman intending to do harm to the village.  Now upon hearing this, the village people began to shout and roar.  The Old Toymaker had much work to do in calming the crowd.  She quickly told of the poison and the change of heart.  Still the villagers were angry and frightened, but they could not deny the healing brew.  The Old Toymaker spoke of the good in the Troll over and over.  The villagers trusted the old woman, but they did not trust the Troll.  The villagers agreed that the Troll could stay, but only under the care of the Old Toymaker.   A few of the villagers found this agreement too unsettling and decided to keep the toymaker's shop under watch that evening. 

The Troll was frightened at the presence of the watchful villagers, but the Old Toymaker just told the troll to do his good work.  The Troll wondered what he should do.  He remember the joy on the children's faces when he put his carvings in their hands.  He remembered how the children especially loved the horses.  He decided to make a horse big enough for a child to ride.  He worked into the night.  The Old Toymaker smiled upon his diligence and persistence.  He dreamed of children riding the horse and just what kind of movement it should have.  In his mind's eye, he pictured the movement of the horse rocking and rocking.  On the bottom of the horses legs he carved two large crescent moons from the front leg to the back leg, one on each side, so that the horse rocked back and forth.  By morning, he had completed this rocking horse. 

The Old Toymaker was amazed at the Troll's work, so finely crafted and beautiful to behold.  The villagers who had meant to keep watch had actually fallen asleep and where startled by the Old Toymaker as she opened her shop doors and asked the Troll to bring out his work.  The villagers were still frightened by the troll, but they were also amazed at this beautifully carved wooden rocking horse.  They had never seen the like.  One of the villagers went to get his children and they rode upon the rocking horse with great joy.  The Old Toymaker and the Troll were overjoyed.  The villagers slowly approached the Troll.  They asked his name.  He said he had never had one.  The Old Toymaker suggested Horace since it was so close in sound to the wonderful horses the troll created.  The Troll agreed and he was called Horace from then on. 

The people came to find Horace to be quite handy and useful in the village.  Not only could he carve beautifully, he could also easily lift a wagon or move any number or large stones.  Of course, as the villagers called on him to help, they also returned favors.  A seamstress made him a fine set of trousers and tunic.  A cobbler made him sturdy boots, although Horace preferred to be barefoot.  And so with all the villagers it went this way.  The people of the village had become very friendly with the Troll now called Horace.  Horace had become very friendly with those around him.  What made him the happiest was helping the people of the town.  He had been alone all his life.  He had never known companionship.  He had never known the the joy of children laughing, but now he knew it everyday.  He made a rocking horse for every child in the village.  He watched them rocking back and forth and holding races with each other and laughing the whole time.  Seeing this filled his huge troll heart full of joy.  There was no doubt in the mind of the villagers that Horace was a good soul.  In fact, they were so convinced, they decided to rename their village Rocking Horse village.  The Old Toymaker was quite pleased as you know, it could have ended differently.

Times were good for Horace, the Old Toymaker, and the villagers of Rocking Horse village until some villagers had come back frightened from a trip into the forest.  A fearsome creature that was quite large, similar in size to Horace, and looked to be mostly red had chased the villagers a great distance from the forest.  Some said it was a troll, but others disagreed.  One thing was certain, the villagers were afraid for their village.  After a discussion with the villagers, Horace agreed to seek out what this thing was to get a good look at it.  He was by far the quietest and had the greatest sense of smell and sight, not to mention the largest and strongest.  However, Horace was not fearless.  In truth, he was very fearful.  Given that he cared a great deal for the villagers and that they were such great friends, he would put that fear aside and sneak into the woods to find out just what this thing was.

Part 3 coming soon...

The Troll and the Toymaker, Part 1

Once upon a time, there was a little village near the sea where the people lived very happily.  In this village, there lived a very old woman who made toys of all kinds for boys and girls.   The old woman's toys were always made of wood, or fabric or stone.  There was no shape that was beyond her skills.  All the people of the village sought her to make special toys for the children.

Outside of the town, down deep in the forest, there lived a Troll.  The Troll was very large standing over nine feet tall and six feet between the shoulders, with long arms and short legs.  It had green skin with very oily hair, and it's top and bottom clothes were made from the forest plants.  The Troll's face was like a cross between a man's and frog's with a broad flat nose and big eyes.  The Troll lived in a hut it had fashioned out of dead trees, rocks, and dirt.  The hut was very finely assembled and the Troll was very handy with tools.  He would often carve pictures into his table and chairs and they had become very ornate.  The Troll was alone, always.  He only ever saw the animals of the forest.  

One day two children had been allowed to go into the forest to gather herbs for their grandmother's favorite soup recipe.  It was a beautiful day and the children decided to make a picnic and bring along their favorite dolls.  The children walked deep into the forest and after finding the herbs found a lovely spot with a ring of trees around them creating welcome shade from the noon day sun.  They ate happily and then brought out their dolls.  They played and laughed.  They didn't know it, but they had decided to picnic just a stone's throw from the hut of the Troll.  And the Troll did hear them laughing.

It was such a strange sound to the Troll, he thought it must be birds.  However, these were not any birds he had ever heard.  So the Troll walked to where he heard the sound.  As large as the Troll was, he was as quiet as a fox, for he did not wish to scare the birds.  As he peeked through the ring of trees, he saw the children.  He watched them and admired their game of dolls.  He watched them for a few minutes and then a moth flew by and alighted on his nose.  As he brushed it away, one of the children then looked towards him and screamed.  This, of course, led the other child to scream, as children will do, and they both jumped and ran as fast as they could go back to the village.  The Troll was as surprised as the children were.  He wondered if there was something frightening behind him.  He quickly dropped to the ground and looked behind him all around.  He couldn't see a thing and decided to pickup the things left behind and take them to the children.   The Troll thought the children were similar to birds as they took to flight when frightened.

It wasn't long before the children had reached the village and word spread that there was a Troll in the woods.  Most of the people in the village believed that Trolls were awful creatures capable of horrible things and that something must be done to protect the village.  Some of the younger men of the village gathered in number with clubs and torches while the others stood by telling them to take care.  The Troll was just coming up the hill carrying the things that the children had left behind when the villagers were coming out of the gates.  When the villagers saw the Troll, there was a yell to attack and they began to rush at him.  The Troll was frozen with fear and just stood trying to understand what was happening.  He had only seen the first two people he had ever seen when he spied the children.  Now, here was a huge mob coming at him screaming and with fire.  Soon enough, he understood that they meant to hurt him.  He dropped the bundle and turned to run.  Clubs and fire began to rain down on him as he ran for his life.  The angry villagers split into two with one mob blocking him from the forest and the other continuing to push him towards the sea.  The poor Troll had no chance but jump into the sea.  As the villagers drove him over the cliff, they shouted for joy as they believed him finished.  

Now, when the Troll jumped into the sea, he was fortunate as he hit no rocks, and Trolls can breathe underwater.  So, he stayed under the water and swam as far away from the village as he could but keeping close to the shore to make his way back into the forest later.  The villagers were quite satisfied and went back to celebrate.  All the other villagers came out to meet them.  Between them, everyone then noticed the bundle on the ground where the Troll had dropped it.  It was the old toymaker who remarked it strange that the Troll was bringing these items to the village.  These were the things left behind by the fleeing children.  Why would the Troll be bringing it back?  While everyone agreed it was strange, it was dismissed that anything good could come from the Troll.  Although, the old toymaker and a few others, began to wonder.  The villagers then went into the village and prepared to celebrate the end of the Troll.  

Meanwhile, the Troll had come out of the sea and had made his way back to his forest hut.  He was confused, very confused.  He wondered why they attacked him.  He wondered what made them so angry towards him.  He wondered what he had done that was wrong.  Then, he realized the children must have screamed because they saw him!  He wondered if he really was frightful and, if so, what was it exactly?  He walked back to the clearing where he had spied the children and then he noticed something on the ground.  Something that was forgotten by the children and something he had missed.  It was a carved wooden horse.  It had been carved beautifully.  Every detail was expertly done.  He had seen a real horse once or twice before and this carving was very good.  He wondered who had made it.  Of course, it was the old toymaker who had made it, but the Troll had no idea of this.  While it was not right to keep the horse, he decided to keep it since the risk of going to the village was far to great.  Again, he remembered that angry mob and how afraid he was.  His fear was beginning to turn to anger.  The more he thought about it, the angrier he got.

He went into his hut and sat down.  He said to himself that these creatures were not good.  He would make them feel worse than he felt.  Deep in his heart, he knew this wasn't right, but he just kept getting angrier.  A plan began to form in his mind, a plan he would start on right away.  The Troll quickly set out in the forest to gather the materials he would need.

Part 2 coming soon...

Thanks to the readers

Hello and thank you for the compliments as well as the stories you've conveyed to me on the interesting application of these stories.  I'm currently working some new tellings.  If you liked a particular story or are interested in a story around a particular setting or event, please Email Me. 

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Abraham

New Podcast available: The Cairn Brownie!

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Abraham

The Cairn Brownie

A long time ago way up in the hills of Scotland near Upper Obney, there was a little boy named Robbie MacFarlay.  He was a well behaved young boy of ten years.  Robbie always obeyed his parents and looked after the cattle and took care to keep the sheep out of the garden. 

He was a good lad and did his chores as best he could, but he couldn't help feeling there was more to life than just looking after the stock.  Sometimes, he felt very lonely being up so far away from town and other lads and lassies.  As the time went on, he tried his best to tame his restlessness.

One day his mum asked him to take much of the wool that had been spun into town for trading.  He was instructed to get as much silver coin as he could but a trade for new tools would be a blessing for his father, a wood cutter.  The boy was so pleased and excited to go to town on his own that he could hardly wait.  It was a long walk to Perth, but that was where he could find the best price for wool.

On his way into Perth, he decided to rest and have his bannocks and cheese.  As Robbie rested and took his lunch, he noticed there were a great many stones lying about.  Seeing as how he had some time, he began to stack them into cairns.  Robbie felt it was great fun stacking the large stones into pillars as tall as he could reach.  After he'd built a few cairns, he set out on his way again. 

Another time he rested his bones, as the sack of wool would get quite heavy over the miles.  Again, he found himself building the cairns.  He did this three more times before reaching Perth.  While in Perth, he found merchants willing give silver coin as well as tools for a wood cutter.  Happily, he tied the coins to his waste purse and took the tools in his bag. 

When he returned home, his mother and father were delighted.  His father said, "Robbie!  I thought you were standing in the hills just dillying aboot and jammerin' away to the rabbits and mice.  Och!  Nay, you were doing all things good and right brining what yer dear family needs!"  And so, when Robbie was asked again by his mum to go to Perth to trade the wool for silver and tools, he jumped at the chance. 

While walking on to Perth, he admired his cairns.  Still standing proud and true.  He had never felt so proud.  This time he stopped at different spots, here and there, eating his bannocks and stacking stones.  Again, when he returned, his parents were delighted at the prices they were receiving for their fine highland wool.

On one particular trip as Robbie was coming in to Perth, he overheard a merchant's conversation to another saying, "Och!  Aye, there's definitely a brownie aboot!  All these cairns popping up all over the place...noo one right in the mind would be building cairns all over the hills for noo reason!  It's a brownie alright.  And that brownie's up to mischief!"  Robbie had heard about brownies.  Wee little men who were kin to the fairyfolk.  It was said they lived out in the hills and sometimes in houses.  He knew people were always careful not to upset a brownie for all the mischief they could bring on.  Still, he couldn't help chuckling to himself about the merchants thinking he was a brownie! It was such an interest to him that he decided to keep it a secret. 

As time went on, Robbie built more and more cairns and the people in the town of Perth began to talk more and more about the Cairn Brownie.  "What's he buildin' all them cairns fer?  They be wit oot rhyme or reason." one would say.  "Might be the brownie's got plans for building some stone huts but he can't make up his mind where to put 'em." said another.  All the while, Robbie would chuckle.  Although, one merchant, Allan Gow, asked Robbie on one particular trip if he'd ever seen the brownie building any of those cairns.  Robbie said he had never seen the brownie building a cairn.  And, that was true as Robbie had built every single one of those cairns himself.  However, fearing what some might say, he didn't offer to Allan that he had built them.  Robbie decided he mostly likely ought to stop building cairns.

On his was back from Perth, Robbie decided he just might take some down.  He started to dismantle one not so far from town when one of the merchants who was heading out to his farm saw what Robbie was doing.  "Robbie MacFarlay!  Doon't you lay one finger on that cairn!"  Allan Gow came running.  "What in the blazes are ye doing, Robbie?  Ye want to bring the brownie's mischief upon Perth!"  Robbie was stunned and was unsure what to say next when Allan said, "Robbie, you put that cairn just like you foond it as fast as you can.  I'll help ye."   After they had placed all the stones as they were, Allan said, "Robbie,  take some ye bannocks and cheese and leave them here fer brownie.  Last thing ye'd want is a right cross brownie thinking ye rather noo see his cairns.  Best to leave a token fer his belly.  Best to make a brownie happy wit bannocks, Robbie." 

Robbie did as he was told and bid Allan good day.  He pondered this on his way home.  He decided it was best to let the cairns be.  They belonged to the brownie now.  Robbie still made his trips and over time, the people of Perth became less and less concerned with the cairns.  But, to this day, they still make sure the cairns are still standing outside of Perth.  Anytime one of the cairns falls, someone restacks the stones and makes sure there's a bit of bannocks and cheese because it's best to make a brownie happy wit bannocks.

The Red Bean

There was once a little boy who lived on a hillside in a small house with his mother.  The hills were most always green except in the winter and there were few trees.  Far off in the distance, the boy could see trees and in the other direction, he could see the river and the town where they often traveled to market.

Once, before they moved to the house on the hill, they lived in the woods and the boy remembered the wonderful time he spent climbing in and running around the trees.  When he would climb, he would try to go as high as he could.  Up and up to the tip top he would climb until the branches would begin to bend.  Sometimes he would sit in the trees just to feel the wind blow.  Rocking back and forth with the trees made him so comfortable. 

It was the walk to the market that made them move to the house on the hill.  They would have to walk for 2 days to reach the market.  Now, in the house on the hill, they only had to walk half of a day.  The boy remembered those times in the woods fondly and hoped that someday he could return. 

One day the boy's mother told him he was now old enough to go to the market on his own.  His mother helped him load some bundles into their cart and sent him off.  This was his first time walking all the way to the market on his own and he was a bit nervous.  His mother told him to stick to the road and to be wary of anyone who might offer assistance or advice that he didn't know. 

As the boy walked down the road, he noticed the small shrubs and studied the branches.  He imagined being so small that the shrub would look like a giant tree.  He imagined climbing up and up to the tip top.  The wind would blow and he could see the leaves and branches of the shrubs tremble.  The boy dreamed and dreamed of the trees.  He kept dreaming so that he did not realize that he was no longer on the road.  He also found he wasn't sure exactly where the road was but was confident that if he just walked back in the direction he had come from, he would be able to reclaim the road.  He walked back, looking at the wheel tracks his cart had made to be sure of his way. 

He heard a bit of babbling and realized there was a stream nearby.  He stopped to refresh himself and wondered about how much time had passed.  While he was drinking, he looked up and saw and old man nearby sitting quietly.  "That cart looks better suited for the road." the old man said.  Remembering what his mother had said about being wary of those he did not know, he replied, "Hello, Sir. Yes, it is better suited for the road.  I am on my way back to the road now."  The old man said, "Where are you headed?"  "I'm going to the market to deliver some goods for my mother.  I'll be on my way now.  Good day to you, Sir" the boy replied.  "Wait just a minute there.  If you don't mind, may I walk with you?  I'm quite old and tired, but I must also get to the market."  said the old man.  Not sure what to say, the boy decided the man was indeed quite old and looked as if he may need some assistance.  So the boy agreed and they both walked on.

The boy could see the old man had trouble walking and so offered him a ride in the cart.  The old man was very grateful.  While the cart was heavier, the boy was happy to help the old man.  It was only a short time to the market and the old man thanked the boy and wished him well.  The boy delivered his mother's goods to the merchant and was about to leave the market when a man came up to him and said, "Excuse me, but are the boy who helped the old man into town?"  "Yes, Sir." answered the boy.  "Then I must thank you.  The old man was my uncle.  I knew he was coming but I was beginning to worry about him.  I'm so glad he's here and I'm very thankful to you.  Before you go, I must give you something."  The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small sack.  He pulled out a small red bean.  He smiled and said, "This may not look like much, but it is very great.  Many would want it if they knew what it was.  I'd like to give it to you."  He handed it to the boy.  "Thank you, Sir.  What is it exactly?  Why is it so great?" the boy asked.  "Just take it to fertile soil and make a wish.  Be good to your parents and sleep a good night's sleep.  In the morning, you will find this small red bean will have made your wish come true." 

The boy thanked the man and decided to return to his house on the hill.  He quickened his pace so he could get home in time for supper.  He put the bean in his pocket and wondered if what the man had said was true. 

When he returned home, it was near dark.  His mother wanted to know what took him so long.  He was an honest boy and told his mother about losing the road and meeting the old man.  His mother told him helping the old man was a good thing and patted his head.  He then told his mother about the man who had given him the red bean and what he had said about a wish.  His mother laughed and told the boy that the man meant well, but that there was no such thing as this.  The boy felt a bit sad but decided to try it anyway.  His mother saw him leaving the house after he had cleaned the plates and said, "So what will you wish for."  "A fine tree to climb in, mother.", said the boy.  His mother smiled and said, "Well, just make sure you plant it far enough from the house in case it falls over." 

He planted his red bean and wished, "I wish for the greatest tree to climb that there ever was.  I wish it to be the tallest tree there ever was and I wish for it to be so strong that it will never fall over."  He went inside and slept a good night's sleep.  In the morning when he woke up, it still seemed to be dark outside.  However, it felt like the normal time he woke in the morning.  As he sat up, he noticed one part of the house had sun light.  He opened his shutters and there before him stood the tallest tree he had ever seen.  It had branches all over the trunk.  It's branches were long and strong.  It seemed to go all the way up to the sky.  The boy could not believe it and ran through the house calling, "Mother, mother!  Look at the huge tree outside!"  His mother got up and they both ran outside.  Neither could believe what they saw.  The boy ran to the tree and began to climb. 

His mother called, "Be careful!"  She still did not know if she was dreaming.  She had to pinch herself.  As the boy climbed up and up to the tip top, he called, "The red bean made my wish come true!  Oh, mother, we have the best climbing tree there ever was!"  He climbed as high as he could and the when the wind blew, the tree swayed back and forth and the boy was happy.

A little boy named Nero

A long time ago, there was a little boy named Nero who lived just on the outside of a big city.  His father and mother worked very hard to just to feed the family.  Everyday, the boy's father went into the big city to work and only came back when it was dark and time for bed.  They boy's mother often carried wood for fires to the homes of others. Nero was too young to carry firewood and, so, he stayed at home.

Nero was alone quite often in the family's little house.  Often he would look out the windows and peer off into the distance for something interesting to look at.  One day, when his father was away working in the city and his mother had just left carrying firewood for one of the neighbors a few miles away, Nero was sitting in the window looking down the road.  He noticed an old man pulling a heavy cart.  Every time he hit a bump, something would fall off his cart.  The man was so old he had trouble bending down to pickup what had fallen.  Nero watched the man, and caring for his age, quickly went outside to help him.

The old man had just hit another bump and was just about to bend down to pick up a bag of apples that had fallen from the cart when Nero reached him. "Please Sir, let me help you."  Nero picked up the bag of apples and placed them on the cart.  The old man smiled with an old and wrinkled face.  Nero looked up at him and wondered how old he was.  He looked to be the oldest person Nero had ever seen.

The man patted Nero's shoulder and picked up his cart and began pulling it along the road, towards the city.  "Are you going into the city, Sir?" Nero asked.  "My father works in the city."  The old man nodded his head and plodded along.  The old man was doing all he could to keep the rickety cart from loosing more of his wares when the road became very rocky.  As he moved the cart to miss one rock, he hit another and this time all the bags on the top fell off.  Nero quickly ran over to help the man put his bags back on his cart.

"You are a very helpful boy."  The old man said, finally. "I'm tired and I don't expect I'll get my cart much farther down this rock-ridden road by myself."  "I can help you!" Nero interrupted.  "I mean, excuse me Sir.  I can help you if you like.  I can walk with you to the city walls and pick up whatever falls off."  The old man smiled and sat down by the side of the road.

The old man said, "I just might take you up on it, child.  But first, sit down with me for moment so that I may rest my weary bones."  Nero ran to his well and filled a bucket of water and brought it over.  The old man smiled again and drank the water.  He said, "How old do you think I am?  I haven't always been so old.  I was once young like you."  Nero asked, "Are you 100?"  "No, I'm much older.  Much, much older than 100 years old.  I've been around for a very long time, but I've never forgotten that I was once very young." The old man said.  "My name is Giovanni and I used to be a performer."

Nero was very curious and so asked, "What kind of a performer?" The old man replied, "I used to swing on a trapeze and fly through the air.  Why, I could flip from one trapeze to another.  It kept me quite strong, you know.  I could easily carry this cart into town to sell my apples without a second thought."  "Nero, have you ever seen the circus?"  "No." Nero said.  "I've never really ever been away from my house.  My father works in the city every day from sun up to sun down.  My mother is always gathering firewood and carrying it on her back for the others that live down the road."

The old man thought about this and felt the boy ought to have a life that was more interesting.  He needed to know the joys of life.  So the old man got up and began to rummage through his cart.  He dug down deep to the bottom and pulled out a book.  It was an illustrated book about the circus.  He sat down and handed the book to Nero.  It was very old.  Some of the pages were quite tattered.  Still, it had pictures of people doing all kinds of tricks.  Every page was filled with strange and wonderful things that Nero had never ever dreamed of. 

The old man began, "Time is a funny thing, Nero.  Right now, you've got a lot of it.  I'm not sure what you do to keep yourself busy there in your home.  I imagine that soon, you'll be carrying firewood just like your mother.  Not long after, I suspect you may work in the city from sun up to sun down.  Before all of that, take this book.  Look at these pictures.  They old, but they're drawn very well.  Try to do what they do in these pages.  It tells you how to do handstands and flips.  It tells you how to become strong, much stronger than you'll ever get carrying fire wood.  Take this book.  I'll come by here every now and again to see how you're doing.  Now, if you'll help me push this cart to the city..."

Nero thanked the old man and helped him push the cart all the way to the city's edge.  He thanked the old man and quite excited, ran all the way home to get a look at the book. 

As soon as he was home, he opened the book.  There were pictures of people doing handstands on top of chairs stacked 10 chairs high.  There were pictures of people swinging on the trapeze and flipping from one to the other.  Nero looked and looked and looked.  It was nighttime before he knew it.  The days seemed to pass more quickly.  Every day after his mother and father left, he practiced what he saw in the book.  Weeks passed.  His mother noticed her son was beginning to look quite different, much stronger. 

One day, as she was coming home a bit early and was beginning to think of him helping her carry firewood, she spied something that startled her.   In the tree behind their house, there was her son swinging from a trapeze and flipping onto the ground.  She gasped!  As she was frozen stiff at the sight of her son flying through the air, she gasped yet again when she saw him begin to do handsprings and a high back flip.  Frozen, she could not take her eyes of what he did next.  As he went into a handstand and began to talk all round the house, perfectly straight. 

"Nero!" she yelled.  More startled that his mother, Nero tumbled right over.  As his mother was in the middle of questioning him as why he would choose to risk himself in such a way, the boy saw the old man, Giovanni, coming down the road with his cart.  Nero's mother was again quite startled when Nero left her in mid sentence and went running down the road yelling, "Giovanni, Giovanni!  I've been practicing!"

Well, as soon as Giovanni and Nero's mother were introduced, Giovanni was invited in and given some water and bread, which was proper treatment for an old traveler at the time.  He explained he had given Nero the book and as they went outside to watch him perform his flips and tricks, Giovanni smiled and clapped.  "You've really been practicing!  You know, there's a circus inside the city.  You have become quite good just from looking at the book, you could become even better with the instruction of a proper instructor.  You never know, they just might let you in.  And a life of performance can lead you to a life full of joy and comfort.  You'll be stronger, livelier, and healthier than you would be otherwise.  Come to the center of the city where the Circus Theater is tomorrow.  I will meet you there."

Nero's father came home later that evening and heard the whole story.  He was also quite surprised.  Later the next day, the whole family would take Nero to the circus school with Giovanni meeting them there.  Nero could hardly sleep he was so excited.

As morning came, Nero was so excited.  He was the first one awake and rushed to make breakfast.  Not used to such energy in the house and having breakfast prepared for them, Nero's parents sat in bewilderment.  After breakfast, they made their way to the city.  Nero had never been and was quite excited to see all the people.  He'd never seen so many at once.  There were people of all different colors, sizes and age.  Animals were everywhere they passed.  There were so many things of wonder, buildings taller than the tallest trees with fine details.  Soon, they came to the center and there was a large stone building with a large door.  Above it was the sign,

Circus

School

.  Nero's father knocked on the door. 

The door opened and the smallest man that anyone had ever seen (about 2 feet tall) opened the door.  Nero's father, having never been to the circus, had never had the chance to see a dwarf.  He was speechless for a moment.  Finally, he said, "My son Nero has been learning the tricks of the circus.  He's become quite good.  We would like to see if he may get better by studying here."  The dwarf looked over at Nero, who couldn't take his eyes off of the dwarf.  "We're not taking any new students." said the dwarf.  "But we've traveled from far outside the city." Nero's father explained.  "Sorry." said the dwarf.

Sadly, Nero's mother and father began to turn away.  "Come on, Nero. It's time to go home."  Just then, Nero jumped on to his father's shoulders and balanced himself.  Nero's father was quite startled as no one had ever jumped on to his shoulders.  Nero left from the shoulders and grabbed on to a beam just above the door to the circus school.  He swung up on to another beam that was rounded and swung around and around in circles and flipped off on the roof of a nearby shop.  Then, he steadied himself and flipped to the ground.  He rolled into a handstand and began to walk all around. As, Nero did a handspring to get back to his feet, Giovanni arrived. 

The dwarf said, "Giovanni!  You have perfect timing.  I know you said we weren't taking anymore students, but have you just seen this boy fly about as good as a monkey?  He is truly very good.  Surely, we should consider taking him as a student."  Giovanni, smiled.  He said, "Yes, perhaps on a trial basis."  And with that, he winked to Nero and his parents.  Nero was overjoyed.  His parents were a bit confused.  They got no time to discuss as Nero was invited in.  It was a wonderful place.  There were so many interesting things.  There were ropes hanging from everywhere.  There were people doing all manner of balancing and there were even some bending over backwards with their feet to their heads!

And so it was decided that Nero would train to become a great performer. Nero was very excited.  Nero's parents were very happy for his opportunity.  And all three were very thankful to the old man whom Nero had met upon the road.

The Flying Rock

Greetings,

I've added another story about the Old Woman of the Forest and her mischievous Little Fairy.  She gets into the Old Woman's forest magic book and tries some out for herself.  There's quite a bit of trouble when she tries adding wings to things that shouldn't fly!  Here's the podcast:  TheFlyingRock.mp3

Thanks for listening!

-Abraham

The Wishing Chicken

Two stories in one evening on the blog.  That's a first for me.  I want to get more of my stories up here, but I use up 3 of my stories every night getting my children to bed!  Anyway, here's a podcast titled "The Wishing Chicken". 

Enjoy!