Diamond T Design
Let your light shine!
Creative ideas for creative minds.
Let your light shine!
Creative ideas for creative minds.
What do you call a bee who’s having a bad hair day? A frizz-bee
Spring is here, time to go wild! Oh what fun to be a child
Grow through what you go through
Call the children out to play, Spring is here with summer on the way!
Green grass pokes between my toes, the scent of flowers fill my nose
Although it’s raining all day long, the drops on my roof sound like a song
Can you hear the birds sing: it’s Spring!
Nights grow short and days grow long, as Springtime comes to sing her song
Cherry blossoms are in bloom, the smell of Spring’s sweet perfume
Breathe deep the smell of nice fresh air, as the Spring wind plays with your hair
Is there anything more beautiful you have seen, than Spring meadows lush and green?
“I don’t have ducks. I don’t have a row. I have squirrels, and they’re at a rave.”
Once upon a time (because all the BEST stories start that way) in a forest just a little way from here there lived a fairy. Most of her neighbors had moved away to bigger forests that had larger, fancier trees, but our fairy had lived in her tree a very, very long time. In fact, so long had she been there that the top of her tree had fallen over when lightning struck it and lay just a short walk away. The fairy lived there so long that vines began to creep up the part of her tree that was still standing. Moss had settled on the north side of the tree and the fairy loved the way it made the remains of her tree look soft and fuzzy.
She didn’t mind that her tree wasn’t as fancy as the ones the other fairies had moved into. Her neighbors were the birds and the bugs, the animals and the fish that lived in the tiny stream nearby.
Just at the edge of the fairy’s tiny wood there was an open field. She liked the way the snow covered the ground in the winter, how the daisies and buttercups came and went in the spring and summer and how pretty her forest looked next to the dry and crunchy grass in the autumn.
She lived there peacefully for many, many years.
Then one day one of the bees who normally worked in the field searching for food to feed their hive buzzed right when she should have hummed left and came to a screeching halt right outside the fairy’s door.
“Well, goodness gracious me,” bumbled the bee, “What a pretty place to live. This is much nicer than that old, rotten, dirty log my sisters and I share. Even though the top fell off the vines make the tree look alive! I must go home and report to the Queen that I have found us a new home!”
The fairy overheard this and grew very frightened. She knew she could stand up to one bee—but a whole hive? All the other fairies were so far away they couldn’t help her! She had some magic but hadn’t had to use it for so very long that she wasn’t sure she remembered very much, at least not enough that would be useful in protecting her house. All night long she read and studied the few books she had, searching for a spell that would protect her beloved house.
Finally, just as the sun was casting its first shadows she found one. It wasn’t a big spell and it wasn’t a hard spell. It wasn’t the kind of spell that anyone might think to use for self-defense. But it was the best she could come up with. Smiling, she put the book away, dusted off her magic wand, giving it a few shakes to wake it up. Next she sat down and waving the still-sleepy wand, made several hundred pairs of tiny gauze bags and stored them neatly by the front door. And only then did she set off to make herself a cup of dewdrop tea.
The bees arrived at the field at precisely 8:27 am. Bees are always very precise about the correct time to begin work on any given day and they always show up on time. Only this time, they didn’t go to work on the flowers, even though the daisies that had opened overnight were especially beautiful that day. Nor did the bees come by themselves. They brought their Queen.
Oh, but she was magnificent was the Queen Bee. Twice the size of her worker-daughters, she wore a crown of thistledown perched behind her antennae. Her wings were clear as glass and reflected rainbows in the morning light as she flew. But very troublesome what the long sword she wore on her body. Most of us would call it a stinger, but the Queen called it her sword and I am not going to bee the one to contradict her. As you probably know, most bees do have swords—but since the sword is part of their bodies they will die if the use it to sting. Not so the Queen Bee. She could sting again and again without taking any harm from it. That fact upset the fairy most of all.
Accompanying the Queen as a guide was the little worker bee that had found the fairy’s house the day before. They flew up to the fairy’s little part-tree and the Queen began to look it over. She buzzed over the vines and hummed at the moss. She glanced at the ancient, abandoned robin’s nest that still huddled at the point where the tree had broken. Finally, she turned to her worker-daughters and spoke.
“All is just as our daughter has stated,” she said, “This little tree shall bee our new home. All of you, go back to our log and gather your things. Bring the new eggs from the egg storage room. Don’t break or lose any. I don’t want any of the baby bees to be hurt or lost.” Losing baby bees was a terrible problem. They tended to crawl around on top of each other. Nobody could tell them apart. Since there were always a great many baby bees it was hard to keep track of them or keep them all fed. The worker-daughters had a hard time remembering who had had her breakfast and who was still hungry. There were always more coming, while others grew up and became workers too. “We will move in this very day,” The Queen commanded happily.
That was too much. Suddenly angry, the fairy pulled her door open and flew out of her house on her own tiny wings. “You can’t come here,” she cried, “This is MY tree. I live in it, and it has been mine and I like it and I am not going to move!” The words kept tumbling out, “This house is not for bees. It’s for a fairy. It has satellite TV, and it’s rent-controlled. I just put in a new stove and oven–And I AM NOT LEAVING!”
The queen looked at the fairy, who was smaller than the smallest of her own worker-daughters. “Of course you will leave, because if you don’t—I will sting you with my sword!”
“No you won’t.” Answered the fairy, trying to calm herself down, “I’ll tell you what. If you leave my tree alone I will teach you a magic trick.”
The Queen Bee had one weakness. She loved magic. It frustrated her that she couldn’t do any. Still, it really was a great tree—but… to do real magic? She thought and she thought and finally said, “I want to see the trick.”
“If I show you do you promise to leave my tree alone?”
“IF I like your trick and IF you can teach me how to do it we will have a deal.”
The fairy smiled and reached behind her door. “Then, Your Majesty, will you please ask your worker-daughters to each take a pair of these gauze bags and tie them onto their back pair of legs?”
The Queen was puzzled by the peculiar request but gave the order and very soon each worker daughter had a pretty, tiny pair of gauze bags tied to her hind legs with dainty bows. Then she turned to the fairy, “Now what happens?”
“Have them all fly to the field and gather the dust off each and every flower.” The fairy replied, “They can put the dust into the bags.”
The Queen reared up on her back four legs, “I can’t have them do that! That dust is useless, all it does is make us sneeze when we’re trying to get food for the baby bees and the rest of the hive!”
“It will be all right, Your Majesty, “said the fairy, “I put a spell on the bags so no one will feel sniffly or sneezy.”
So off the bees flew to gather the flower dust while the fairy and the Queen Bee shared a pot of dewdrop tea and some fresh acorn muffins that the fairy had baked that very morning.
The bees were back not long after the sun passed the highest point of the sky. Each worker-daughter had her little bags bulging with yellow dust, but nobody was sneezing, nobody had watery eyes, and not a sniffle was heard.
The fairy cleared a space on the ground and covered it with her very best golden platter. “Everyone, empty your bags here.” One by one they obeyed, pouring the dust into a large, neat pile because bees are very, very tidy.
Taking her wand in hand the fairy began chanting the spell. The Queen and the worker-daughters all watched in wonder as the dust deepened in color and melted into a golden pool. The Queen shook her royal head. “This is indeed a nice trick—but we don’t need gold. We’re bugs!”
“It’s not gold, Your Majesty. It’s much, much better,” smiled the fairy, “Taste it!”
The Queen reached out one cautious forefoot and touched the golden pool, “It’s STICKY!” she cried, “My daughters and I will get stuck and we’ll all DIE!” An angry hum rose from the eagerly watching worker-daughters, swords were drawn by some who thought the Queen was in danger and were ready to defend her with their very lives.
“You won’t get stuck, “replied the fairly calmly, “Just taste the little bit you have on your forefoot.”
Gingerly the queen brought the sticky substance up to her mandibles for a taste. “Oh my!” She cried, “It’s DELICIOUS! Whatever do you call it? This is so wonderful, we can feed it to our baby bees and they will never again bee hungry!”
“Oh you can do much more than that with this magic,” said the fairy, and she waved the wand again. The golden puddle began to change once more, growing hard and taking the form of a long sheet, covered by the oddest six-sided compartments. Each compartment was exactly the right size for a baby bee!
The Queen Bee danced with delight. Now none of the baby bees would ever get lost again because each one would have her very own place to sleep and play and eat and grow. Leaning down, she listened carefully to the fairy’s instructions how to make the golden liquid and how to turn it into the hard, waxy substance that made the baby bee bedrooms.
The fairy had to stand outside a long time beecause each and every bee had to thank her personally. The Queen came last. “I declare you, fairy, as Beefriended. It is our most sincere promise that not only will we leave your house completely alone, but we will send drones to watch over it and keep it safe for you.”
“Thank you, your majesty,” said the fairy gravely. “And because you really are a great monarch, I have one more little surprise. It’s very lonely here in my little forest since all my friends moved away. I’d like to have nice neighbors.” She smiled a little shyly, “You see, I live in the bottom part of the old tree. The top part is right over there. It’s much bigger than my little bottom part, and nobody’s lived there for such a long time. You can move all your family in and we can be neighbors forever more.”
And that’s just what they did. Now every morning the fairy rises to the music of humming bees as they bee-line to the open field and the flowers that grow there. And sometimes, because royalty never goes and gathers pollen, the Queen comes over to her house where they sit and talk and sip their dewdrop tea while they spread freshly-made honey on hot, newly-baked acorn muffins.
The End
Copyright 2006, Diane J Ullman ©
A very long time ago, in far off Scandinavia, there was a village called Skallanes.
During one particularly cold and dark winter, the people of Skallanes were yearning for spring. March passed and then April. Yet the snow remained. Nowhere, did green shoots or any other signs of new life appear. By the time May commenced, the villagers were worried that they were facing an eternal winter.
One day, the mayor gathered everyone together in the village hall. “I have bad news,” the mayor announced gravely, “Spring has been kidnapped by Old Man Winter.”
The villagers gasped. If Spring was imprisoned, she could not bring her warmth and new life to their village. They would be doomed to live in the bleak cold forever.
The mayor continued… “Other villages have already sent rescue missions to free Spring but to no avail. None of the people who have tried have returned. We need a volunteer to try to rescue her.”
Most villagers looked down at their feet. If other people had tried to free Spring and not returned, they certainly didn’t want to volunteer!
“I will go,” came a soft voice from the back of the hall. The villagers all looked around. The voice belonged to Oscar, a timid young man of only twenty years of age. Everyone was surprised. Oscar was a shepherd who generally lived a solitary life on the outskirts of Skallanes.
“My sheep cannot continue much longer in these freezing conditions,” Oscar explained, “I will go and rescue Spring.”
After gathering provisions, Oscar started off on his long, hard trek to the North Pole. Through howling winds, bitter sleet and freezing snow, Oscar journeyed. At times, he felt he could not go on but Oscar reminded himself that should he succeed, Spring would return.
Eventually, Oscar reached Old Man Winter’s foreboding castle. The castle walls were high and all around was an eerie silence. There was a clunk and the huge iron gates creaked open. Before he could fight back, Oscar was surrounded by grim-faced soldiers carrying spears. Two of the soldiers grabbed Oscar’s arms and marched him through the gates and into a room just inside the castle walls. The soldiers threw Oscar to the ground and left.
Oscar heard a key turn in the door.
Oscar looked around his prison. The walls were grey and damp and puddles had formed on the bare stone floor. There was no light source other than a tiny window in the top of one wall. In the corner of the room, there were a variety of shivering animals (rabbits, deer and guinea pigs) all huddled together to keep warm. His heart filled with despair as Oscar realised that his mission had failed before it had even really started. He sat on the cold, hard floor and eventually fell asleep.
A few hours later, Oscar awoke. His stomach rumbled with hunger. Rising, Oscar realised that something was wrong. He felt strange. Getting a glimpse of his reflection in one of the puddles on the floor, Oscar was horrified to see he had been turned into a large, angry-looking tiger!
His stomach growling again, Oscar spotted a tiny white rabbit in the corner of the room. Before he even realised what he was doing, Oscar sprang at the rabbit who only just managed to avoid the sharp, tiger claws that were now in the place of Oscar’s fingernails.
“I came to save Spring,” explained Oscar. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, what can I do? ”
The rabbit hopped over to Oscar’s side and held out one of her front paws. Oscar could see writing on it. “The only way to remember you’re a human is to write your name on your paw. The only ones of us who still have memories of our human lives are those with our names on our paws.”
Looking at the rabbit’s silky paw, Oscar could see the name ‘Greta’.
“My name is Oscar, I come from the village of Skallanes.” He held out his huge paw and Greta wrote ‘Oscar’ using a thick, white stone.
“Those of us who remember who we are, have a plan,” Greta continued, “we are digging a tunnel under the castle to find Spring’s cell. However, because we are all so small, it has taken us a long time and we have made very little progress. With your huge claws, our tunnel could be completed much quicker.”
Greta led Oscar to a corner of the room. Using all her strength, she lifted up a flagstone with her tiny paws. Oscar could see a long, dark tunnel. After helping Greta move the flagstone out of the way, Oscar followed Greta down into the tunnel.
Over many days, Oscar and the other animals dug through the dark, hard earth, extending the tunnel until it reached Spring’s cell. Oscar and the other animals burst into the room. There sat Spring. Her long, raven-black hair fell all the way to the floor. She was wearing a gown of glimmering gold and there was a crown of beautiful spring flowers on her head.
“I knew someone would come and rescue me,” said Spring in her soothing, gentle voice.
Hearing noises coming from the cell, guards rushed in. At the unexpected sight of the fierce tiger, the guards ran away in fright.
Oscar, Greta, Spring and the other animals rushed out of the castle.
“Won’t Old Man Winter come after you again?” a guinea pig asked nervously.
Spring shook her head. “I was asleep when he kidnapped me. Now I am awake, I am stronger than he is. The seasons will return to their natural order and we will ensure this never happens again.”
Spring gently kissed each animal on the head. With each touch of her lips, the animals returned to their human forms.
Having restored each human, Spring flew away, leaving a stream of canaryyellow rose petals behind her. The humans began their journeys back home. As they walked, they saw signs of spring everywhere. The snow and ice melted. They could hear birds singing sweetly in the trees. Green shoots sprung from the ground and daffodils sprouted up.
As her village had been destroyed by the long winter, Greta returned to Oscar’s village with him. On their return, the two were greeted as heroes by the villagers who had already started to celebrate the return of Spring.
Eventually, Greta and Oscar were married. Each year, the seasons followed their natural order. Never again did Old Man Winter attempt to overstay his welcome.
You can read the whole story, beautifully told with rich imagery, HERE.
When Spring is freed, her steps cause flowers to bloom and new plant growth to sprout everywhere, which reminds me of the Spring Sprite from Fantasia 2000, one of the most beautiful pieces of animation ever to come out of Disney.
And if you're after more Spring themed fairy tales, don't miss "The Enchanted Castle, A Book of Fairy Tales from Flowerland" with full text and illustrations at Project Gutenberg. (Click to go there.)Read more Aesop's Fables
Scandinavian Fairy Tales, Folk Tales and Fables