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The Black Forest (standard:fairy tales, 3926 words) | |||
Author: J.A. Aarntzen | Added: Oct 17 2005 | Views/Reads: 4271/2984 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
Four young elves discover an abanadoned baby in the middle of the Black Forest. | |||
The Black Forest In that part of their country that the Germans call the Black Forest was born a boy on December 6, 1795. He was a cherubic boy with brilliant blue eyes and a mouth that was always smiling. However, even in his first few hours of life this boy had already experienced great sadness. For this little tot with the abundant paunch had been left on his own in the Black Forest by his mother. She did not want to be a mother. She was a very unhappy woman whose unhappiness kept her mind in a fog and could not think straight. She thought that it would be better for the baby to die than to grow up an orphan. So with cloudy intentions she left her newborn son at the roots of a gnarly old tree. She wept a little and then she was gone. Shortly after the sad woman left, the little baby began to cry for he was hungry and he was cold. But there were no ears to hear his mournful wails. And thus the little baby spent his first night of his long life alone and without anybody to feed and fend for him. In the morning the winds picked up. The snow that blanketed the Black Forest's floor was blown about to form monstrous banks that took the most menacing of shapes. Trolls and goblins could not be as frightening in appearance as some of these drifts. One of these fearful snow banks began to creep slowly toward the baby. It was almost as if it had the murderous intent of suffocating the child. He was growing very weak. He was terribly afraid. Even before attaining the concept of death the little boy was upon its frightful gates. He wanted to cry but his snow-clogged lungs did not afford him the opportunity to bawl his protest against cruel life. ... Now, somewhere nearby to the sad little boy were four curious beings that had lost their way because of the unexpected blizzard. These creatures called themselves elves. They were musty green tunics that covered very little of their bandy legs which were bare to the wind. On their feet were silly shoes with long toes that curled up over their arches. Their faces were of the type that little girls would call sweet. They had button-noses and big oval eyes that seemed to see more than there was to see. Upon the tops of their heads were mops of curly hair that listened more to the wind than to the comb. Two were redheads while the other two were blonds. Normally, elves are quite cheerful and footloose but on this particular morning with the fierce winds beating against their small bodies, any notion of joyfulness was as hard for them to grip as a bar of soap in the bathtub. Ho was the leader of this forlorn, lost group. His wild red hair was a good indication of the angry fire that burned within him on this day. He carried a staff that helped him trudge through the snow. A burst of chilling wind pushed him into the bank. He got up angrier than ever and began swinging his staff at the other three. “Who pushed me down?” he growled in his chipmunk-like voice. “It was not I!” cried blond-haired chubby Diddo. “Nor I!” added the other fair-haired member of the company. Unlike Diddo, Hum was thin. “If it was me I would have made sure that you would have stayed down!” said flame-haired Kiddo. “It is because of your lousy directions Ho that I shan't be home for Christmas!” “How dare you say that it was my fault!” snapped Ho. “It was your idea Kiddo that we stay one night longer to help the cobbler. And for what? He did not even say thank you! He took all the credit for those wonderful shoes that Hum designed. If we would have left when I said Click here to read the rest of this story (539 more lines)
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J.A. Aarntzen has 10 active stories on this site. Profile for J.A. Aarntzen, incl. all stories Email: joe@storytelleronthelake.com |