Imagine we are living old stories and every day there are moments of enchantment. These old folk tales convey the wisdom and truth of the natural world. As we seek love and support, they show it is alongside us throughout our life. They speak of a time when humans knew the language of all the animals, both seen and unseen. No one species dominated. All contributed to the harmony of the world. All made sacrifices for the good of the whole. This memory is inside us. We can find it with our heart. We are living it. Subtle interactions of support and love also exist every day. Where are our receptors? We are good enough "As We Are" to receive all the love the world has to offer. Why is it so hard to believe this? Every rose, ladybug, trout and tree lives in this harmony.

“Sweet Pea,” I whisper to the fallen bird, “you’re going to be just fine.”
“Sweet Pea,” whispers the snake to me as she slithers across my path as I cry,
“You’re going to be just fine.”
“Sweet Pea,” whispers the tree to the snake as she hurries home to her babies,
“They’re going to be just fine.       And so it is.

Can you hear it? The insignificant is where enchantment lives. Young children hear it. It also lives in the folk/fairy tale. Maybe that is why kids love them so. Suspend thought. Believe. Awaken and trust your instincts. Look inside.

There is an old Jewish tale about an apple tree growing among a grove of oaks. Oh, she wanted the stars to dance on her branches, like they did on the oak trees. But her branches never seemed to grow high enough. Season after season saw the same result... until one Fall an apple fell from her branches. It broke in half and inside was a star.

We too can open, when we let go of domination. We can listen and receive what is offered. In many folk tales, it is the youngest child or the simpleton who finds the treasure and brings it home. They have stopped along the way to brush the hair of a hag or let a rabbit out of a trap, even if they are hungry. They respond to life from the heart. In return they are given instructions on what to do when confronted with obstacles to their task. The hag talks in hag and the rabbit in rabbit, but all is understood.

“When you see the giants guarding the cave, wait until they have eaten, as they will take a nap and you can sneak by.”

“When you see the oarsman, he will not take you across, but give him this eagle feather and he will take you to the other side.”

We don’t have to do it all. We can receive in unexpected ways, when we let go of control. There are many kindnesses. What if we shifted focus from fixing to receiving help. The folk tale can be our guide.

“Once there lived a cobbler and his wife. They had four sons. Father was cobbler to the King. Every day a messenger from the King arrived to pick up and drop off shoes. Our cobbler had such a wonderful reputation that when the King had visitors they oftentimes brought their old shoes to be fixed or requested new ones to be made before they left. He made shoes for princes and princesses, earls and counts, dukes and duchesses. Yet he never met a one.

His wife watched as he made elegant purple button-up boots, dancing shoes with elaborate bows, or hunting shoes of the finest leather. Every day she asked her husband if they could go to the castle and every day he patiently and thoughtfully told her, no. That was the one thing they were not allowed to do.

The cobbler’s wife then went out to her flock of hens of which she was very proud. They had names like Princess of Parsley, Duchess or Daffodil, Contessa of Carrots and Queen of Saplings. This was her world. This was her court and invited guests. Sometimes when that was not enough, she went into the woods to cry.

One moonlit night a fairy of the wood heard her crying and asked what was wrong. The cobbler’s wife told her of her longing to go to the castle and watch the festivities. “Well,” said the fairy, “I can turn you into a crow and you can enter the kingdom from above, but each time you must return. She agreed and a crow she became. Caw. Caw. Caw. The boys awoke, but were soon back fast asleep. Off she flew, over the castle walls. She found the ballroom and perched outside on the balcony.”

Sometimes we need to surrender to unseen forces at work. Sometimes when life gets too hard, we need to disappear for a while and become something other. The awakening to this possibility can be transformative, yet it is not without sacrifice. There is a story from the plains Indians as retold by Hyemeyohsts Storm in Seven Arrows. It is the story of a small creature, a mouse...

Who has his nose to the ground, busy doing mouse things, when he hears a “roaring” in his ears. He finally goes to investigate, even though there is always the threat from the shadow of eagle. He finds raccoon, who leads him to the river, the sound he has been hearing. He then meets frog, who asks him to jump as high as he can. For a second, he sees Sacred Mountain before tumbling back to earth. Frog gives him a new name, Jumping Mouse. Excited, he returns home, where no one believes in rivers or Sacred Mountain. He can’t stay. With a quickly beating heart, he ventures off alone. The threat of eagle is constant. He finds a new clan of mice in an abundant part of the prairie, where he could be well cared for. They know about the river, but don’t believe in Sacred Mountain. Again he has to go. He comes across a dying buffalo, who can only be saved by the eye of a mouse. But he has never seen a mouse before. Jumping Mouse gives him one of his eyes. Buffalo tells him to walk under him and he will guide him to the base of Sacred Mountain. With a quickly beating heart and fear of being stepped upon, he obeys. Once there, he finds wolf, who is also in trouble. Jumping Mouse gives him his other eye. Wolf then guides him up the mountain, describing everything as he goes, as now Jumping Mouse is blind. When at the top, wolf must leave and Jumping Mouse is alone. The shadow appears and eagle strikes! Jumping Mouse goes to sleep. When he awakes, he is surprised to be alive. His vision slowly clears. He hears a familiar voice, “Jump. Do not be afraid. Hang on to the wind and trust.” This he does as his sight gets sharper. “You have a new name,” says frog, “it is Eagle.”

This story enters our psyche and touches a tender place. We have no elders to explain; yet we feel its truth. We may have forgotten this story because it is not reinforced by our culture. But, when we hear it, we activate its existence and maybe, just maybe, its relevance for today. Could we possibly be living old stories? If we can recognize them inside us, can we lay down our burden, surrender our arrogance and be one with our world and maybe, just maybe survive.

To Life!

Deborah Eve Freedman is a Hupa. She listens to life stories and transforms them into fairy tales. She is the founder of MOOSE (Maine Organization Of Storytelling Enthusiasts) and director of the Folk Tales for Life Project coming to Portland June 4th and 5th. For more information go to www.moosetellers.ning.com. She is also teaching a 6-week course at USM Cont. Ed. in creating new fairy tales. Class begins in April. She can be reached at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it or www.storyspell.com.