The Homecoming

LongBeard the gnome was sitting peacefully on his red and white toadstool, smoking his harmless herbacco pipe.

Suddenly his friend ShortBeard tugged at his toe. “Hey, LongBeard,” called ShortBeard, would you mind helping me interpret the dream I had last night?”

“Of course not,” LongBeard laughed. “Come on up and tell me the most important words from your dream.” ShortBeard hopped up onto the toadstool and gave LongBeard the list of words which he had prepared in advance. “Happy, bread, cover, face, sailing, smell, coat, harbour,” LongBeard read. He sat back, closed his eyes for a few minutes and then said, “ShortBeard, here is the story that will help you understand your dream:”

She stood on the porch peering out at the vast expanse of the sea in front of her. Butterflies danced in her stomach and a soft smile played on her face.

Her man was coming home today. After weeks of sailing at sea, their captain had at last given the sailors permission to return to their families for a short break.

She had woken early to bake his favourite bread. Lovingly she had spread butter over the crust to keep it soft and moist. The she had covered it with a tea cloth to keep it clean and fresh, ready to be cut when he arrived home.

The smell of freshly baked break always added a touch of homeliness to the happy reunion, which she was looking forward to.

As these pleasant thoughts drifted through her mind, she turned to fetch her coat from the house.

It was time to head down to the harbour.

It was time to meet her man.

Original dream words: lead, dry, remains, happy, remote, pony, snatch

Acknowledgements: dreamblazer, naval warfare, clumpsyclipart

Death of an Innocent

LongBeard the gnome and his friend Pippo were sitting on a rock, dangling their feet in the cool water of the stream. Pippo was looking a bit wistful, so LongBeard asked in his gentle way, “Are you all right, my friend?” Pippo sighed. “I had a strange dream last night and woke up in a rather melancholic state.” “Is there anything I can do to help you?” LongBeard enquired. “Perhaps if I could tell you about my dream it might help me to understand it better…” Pippo replied. LongBeard nodded and waited patiently, giving Pippo the space to decide what he wanted to do.

Then Pippo sat up straight and said, “Yes, LongBeard, I think it might be a good idea if you could use your dream interpretation skills to help me. “In that case,” LongBeard replied, “just give me the most important words from your dream.” Pippo took a large leaf, scribbled on it with a twig and gave the list to LongBeard. LongBeard looked at the words, closed his eyes for a few minutes and then said, “Pippo, here is the story which will help you to understand your dream:”

“Rewind that section again please,” said the policeman.

The group of policemen and women listened to the whirring of the machine as the constable pressed the rewind button. “There, stop!” said the policeman. In stunned silence the group watched the scene again, trying to see what had caused the usually calm and reliable horse to go berserk and throw the mounted policeman from his back.

They watched the horse rear and plunge, as if being attacked by someone or something they couldn’t see. The whites of his eyes were showing, his nostrils flaring, as he fled through the crowd, trampling people who weren’t alert to the danger and who didn’t move away in time.

At last the horse seemed to spot an opportunity to exit, jumped over the temporary police barricade and disappeared from view into the adjacent park.

The camera returned to the thrown policeman who was lying very still, his one leg bent at an odd angle. Within moments a colleague was attending to him. “My horse,” he whispered, “someone jabbed him. Please find him and help him…”

“Rewind the tape again,” said the policeman back in the room, “but further back this time.” The young constable obliged. Again the group watched in silence. “There it is!” someone exclaimed, “there’s the jab!”

The video was stopped, rewound and played forward in slow motion. Finally they could all see it clearly – as the mounted policemen formed the guard around the King’s carriage they were very close to the spectators. Quick as a flash a man was glimpsed lifting his hand and sticking something into the one horse’s right flank.

The horse jerked and his rider looked to the right, straight into the face of a smiling man who triumphantly dangled a syringe in the air before moving back and disappearing into the crowd.

The video whirred and clicked, and a photo of the culprit was shown on a side screen. The young constable knew what was required and automatically pressed the button which would send the photo to all the police stations in the area, including the printing department. It wouldn’t take the efficient police force long to catch the man.

“Bugger,” whispered the policeman, “what was that all about?” “Probably jealousy and revenge,” replied an older policeman. “I recognise that lad. He applied to the mounted police force but wasn’t accepted due to his violent nature and harsh ways of working with horses.”

“How is the horse?” asked a young policewoman. “What happened to him?” “Sad news,” replied the older policeman. “He was found dead in the park. An autopsy showed that he had been injected with deadly snake venom.”

“Oh, how awful!” exclaimed the policewoman, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Yes,” replied the older man. “We are relieved that the rider suffered no more than a broken leg and that none of the spectators were seriously hurt, but the death of an innocent, reliable and trusting companion will be hard for his rider to deal with.”

“It’s like losing a good friend,” he whispered.

Dream words: rewind, berserk, people, death, opportunity, exit, relieved.

Acknowledgement: dreamblazer, uk student life

A Blessed Journey

The Master looked down at the student kneeling in front of him and gently laid his hand on his head.

He closed his eyes as he said a prayer for this young man who had decided to journey to a far-away land on a pilgrimage. He asked for help and guidance. He asked for courage and strength. He asked for a blessing.

As the Master spoke, the young man felt himself being flooded with warmth, the likes of which he had never experienced before. He felt as if he was being cocooned in a protective bubble of indescribable love.

The Master finished the prayer and removed his hand. “Stand up,” he commanded in a gentle tone. The student stood up and looked at him. “Practise all you have learnt,” said the Master, “speak only positive words and the blessing bestowed on you will protect you on your journey.”

The student folded his hands and bowed respectfully. “Thank you, Master,” he said. “I thought this would be an extremely sad moment in my life. The thought of leaving you forever filled me with dread. But now I know that you are always with me; I know you are in my heart and in my thoughts, that your love and blessing will be with me and protect me on my way. In stead of feeling sad, I feel filled with love and gratitude. I feel energised and committed to my journey, knowing there is no sadness and no loss when we say good-bye. I thank you and honour you!”

The young man bowed once more, turned on his heels and left. The Master marveled at how light his step was, and at the beautiful light that radiated all around him.

Original dream words used as basis for this story: Wandering man, eye contact, sit-ups, smiling/waving, leaving.

Acknowledgment: www.blazelightaround.co.uk

LongBeard and the Sloth

LongBeard the gnome was visiting his cousin in South America. He marveled at the beautiful trees and the landscape so different from his own home in Riversdale, South Africa.

One day LongBeard decided to go and visit the sloths, animals which are only found in the forests of South and Central America.

The three-toed sloths lived in trees near the castle where LongBeard was staying with his cousin. Each member of this family was called Sloth, as it was too much of an effort for them to choose other names. Sloths don’t do anything beyond what they have to, and that is the bare minimum!

LongBeard quickly climbed up the high tree where he could see a family of sloths hanging from the branches. Their eyes were open, so he knew they were awake. It was quite difficult to find the right time to visit the sloths, as they sleep for about 10 hours every day! Sloths prefer to hang upside down from branches, rather than sitting on them. They hang very quietly and because they hardly move, they are almost impossible to spot. Their long nails grip the branches firmly and their slightly green coats help them to blend in with their surroundings. They were invisible to the eagle which at that moment swooped down and grabbed a poor, unsuspecting rabbit who had exposed himself carelessly in the open.

LongBeard made himself comfortable on the branch alongside Sloth, the biggest of the family. He knew that sloths don’t enjoy speaking too much, and he chose his questions carefully so as to elicit maximum information with minimum effort from the sloth. “Sloth,” he asked, “how old are you?” “30,” came the one-word reply.

“Do you ever feel the need to move more quickly?” LongBeard inquired, knowing that at their fastest sloths can only progress about 2 metres per minute! In fact, everything about them is slow – they eat slowly, their digestion is very slow and they only go to the toilet once a week! Sloths have a very slow metabolism and they even keep their body temperatures down to conserve energy. “No,” came the one-word reply again.

LongBeard noticed that the hair on the sloths’ bodies seemed to grow in the opposite direction to hair on the bodies of other animals and decided to ask the sloth about it. “Is it my imagination, or does your hair grow in the wrong direction?” asked LongBeard. “We spend almost all our time hanging up-side down,” replied the sloth, “so our hair grows in the direction that will give us the most protection from the elements.” The sloth closed his eyes, as if the effort of answering the questions had exhausted him.

At that moment, there was a commotion at the castle. A little prince came running towards the trees shouting, “Sloth, sloth, quickly! Move higher into the trees where you will be safe! The Devil is coming with his bow and arrows and he says he is going to shoot you!” The little prince’s fear could be clearly detected in his frantic behaviour. The sloths groaned but didn’t move. The little prince ran to the trees and searched for the sloths, but because they were so quiet and well camouflaged, he couldn’t see them at all.

“Who is the Devil?” whispered LongBeard. “The prince’s older brother,” said the sloth. “He enjoys killing animals for fun.” “Do you trust the little prince?” asked LongBeard. “We mistrust all humans,” the sloth said laconically and wisely. “They always seem to want to capture us and make pets out of us, or shoot at us as if we were target practice.”

LongBeard decided to go and have a word with the little prince. He enjoyed being in this country where gnomes could speak to humans and animals alike. He slid down the tree and walked to where the little prince was still calling out to the sloths. He tugged at his trouser leg to get his attention. “Hey, Little Prince!” he called.

“Oh hello,” said the little prince. “What are you doing here?” “I thought I should come and talk to you about the sloths,” LongBeard replied. “What about them?” asked the little prince. “Where are they? We must warn them that my brother is coming!”

“They heard you,” said LongBeard, “and are thankful for your warning. However, they want you to understand that safety for them lies in being quiet, rather than running. Because of their colour, and because they can stay still for such long periods at a time, their enemies can’t see them. They look as if they are part of the tree and not even the sharp eyed eagle or the cunning jaguar can find them easily.” “How do you know this?” asked the little prince. “The sloths told me,” LongBeard replied.

The little prince sighed. “I just want to help rescue them and make sure they are safe,” he said. “They are quite capable of helping themselves,” LongBeard replied gently. “Just because they are different and slow, it doesn’t mean that they are wrong and we are right. We each have our own journey to walk in our own way. Look at me, I’m much smaller than you, but I am happy being a gnome. Would you like to be a gnome or a sloth?”

“No,” smiled the little prince, “I guess not.” “Well,” LongBeard continued in his gentle tone, “it is just the same for sloths. They enjoy being who they are and appreciate being accepted as they are, rather than being changed into something or someone they would rather not be. Sometimes we are naïve in thinking that the way we perceive the world to be is the only way and it is good for us to remember that every being has the right and the freedom to be who they choose to be.”

“In the end it’s just about accepting ourselves and others without wanting to always make changes, isn’t it?” asked LongBeard. “Even with the best of intentions we sometimes interfere in others’ lives, thinking that we are helping them.”

The little prince sat down on the ground and looked at LongBeard very seriously. Then he nodded and said, “You are right. In fact, with all the noise I’m making I am probably leading my brother to the sloths rather than helping them! Silly me! I feel much happier now that I understand that they are quite capable of protecting themselves. I always thought sloths were just lazy and unaware of dangers around them, but now I realise how limited my knowledge is!”

With that he got up, dusted off his trousers and turned to go back to the castle. “Would you like a lift home?” he asked politely and held out his hand to LongBeard.

“Why sure,” said LongBeard and hopped onto the little prince’s hand. “I’d be honoured to be given a lift by such a helpful and caring chap!”

Original dream words on which this story is based: school, high, man, jumped, rescue, fear, violence, protect, airplane, crashed, schoolboys, spoilt.

Acknowledgement: www.blazelightaround.co.uk, google images

The Danger of being a VIM (Very Important Mouse)

LongBeard the wise gnome cleared his throat and touched his nose with his left index finger. The other gnomes went silent. It was story telling time in Bigroot Oak Village! “Tonight I would like to share a story with you which was told to me by the Spirit Guides. I hope it will help you in dealing with big events in your life.”

‘Omni Mouse peeked from his tunnel. It was well camouflaged next to a knot in the wooden skirting board and so far the owner of the house had been too lazy to close it up. He had other more important things to do and therefore left it to the cats to deal with any mice that might venture into the house.

Omni saw some delicious crumbs lying under the dining room table. However, he also noticed the big ginger cat sitting close by, licking his paws and grooming himself.

As much as Omni desired the food, concern for his personal safety prevented him from giving in to his impulses. He knew it was possible to grab the morsel of food and run back to the safety of his tunnel, but he also knew he stood an equally good chance of being caught by the cat and becoming a tasty morsel in return! Omni did not hesitate. He retreated to the safety of the tunnel and joined the other mice. They still had enough food. He wasn’t so desperate that he needed to risk his life to become cat's prey or toy!

A couple of days later Omni noticed they only had one little piece of bread left, so he went to explore his usual food sources. His first stop was always the dining room. Oh dear, as he peeped out, he saw not one, but two cats lurking about!

He quickly retreated and explored the other tunnels. One tunnel led to a field where there was always corn or other seeds lying about. Again he cautiously peeped out of his tunnel. This time he saw hawks circling over-head.

Retreating again he tried the next tunnel. This tunnel came up inside the farmer’s shed. As he peeped out, Omni noticed a barn owl sitting high up on a beam. This time he retreated very cautiously, knowing that a mouse like him was the owl's most favourite food type!

Omni wasn’t seriously worried, as he still had three other tunnels that he could use. The next tunnel took him to a big oak tree where there were always delicious acorns. Careful as always, he first peeked around to see if it was safe to collect food. However, he saw some big birds with sharp beaks sitting in the tree above him and decided not to risk it.

As quickly as his little legs could carry him, he ran along the next tunnel which took him to a rock pool where he knew picnickers often left scraps of food behind. Carefully, he studied the surroundings. Everything looked quiet, but almost too quiet and his inner senses were alert to hidden dangers. Then, suddenly he saw it! Quiet and dark as a shadow, a snake lay stretched along a fallen branch on the rock. To all but the attentive eye, it was invisible. Omni's brother had been hyponotised and swallowed by a snake, so Omni was always extra cautious around these creatures.

Omni retreated and headed up the last tunnel. It was quite a long tunnel, and it emerged at the end of a very busy street. The journey was always well worth it though, as he had never returned empty handed from this route. As he reached the tunnel opening, he could smell the petrol fumes and dank garbage. This was his least favourite destination, but also the safest. Even though he knew there was always easy food to be had here, he preferred to check all his other options first.

He peeked out of the tunnel and watched the cars race by. People were blowing their horns and everyone was staring straight ahead. Some people walked past him on the pavement. They were walking fast and looking at where they were going. Nobody looked down and nobody saw the little mouse. Omni was used to this and it made it easy for him to hunt for food there. He had very quickly learnt that people were creatures of habit and there were times when they seemed to be in more of a rush and less aware of their surroundings. He always chose these times to hunt for food on the street. He knew that all he needed to do was avoid being stepped on and nobody would notice him. Still, occasionally people put out traps to catch mice, which they regarded as vermin responsible for causing diseases and destroying their property, so Omni moved about very carefully.

He studied the environment but saw nothing out of the ordinary, just a smelly piece of cheese lying next to the large garbage bin. He quickly scurried out of the tunnel and grabbed the cheese. As he did so, he noticed a very big piece of cheese lying close by. Greed and desire for the cheese almost overwhelmed him. “Whoa,” he cautioned himself, “safety first!” He took the small piece of cheese back to the tunnel and peeked out again cautiously.

The big piece of cheese was still there. It seemed to be calling out to him. In his mind he could see himself picking it up with his strong front paws and carrying it back to the nest; he could hear the other mice cheering his name, “Omni, Omni…” He could see the red carpet being rolled out as he entered with this gigantic piece of cheese…

Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by a small voice. “What are you staring at?” It was Rosy, his little niece, who had followed him. At first Omni felt annoyed at her interference, but then he felt ashamed as he realised how he had been daydreaming about becoming a VIM (Very Important Mouse). “There is a big piece of cheese over there,” he pointed with his nose. “Shall I help you carry it?” Rosy offered. Rosy adored her uncle, who was the most famous provider and nest builder in their community. “You know, Rosy, it’s actually so big it won’t fit into the tunnel. Just help me bite off small chunks that we can handle and then we’ll see how much of it we can carry home.”

As his common sense returned, so did his sense of safety. Omni and Rosy approached the Big Cheese carefully, always careful of danger.. Bit by bit they chunked the cheese down, always keeping a watchful eye on their environment and never carrying anything bigger than what they could easily manage. Quick as a wink the Big Cheese was reduced to Bite Size Chunks which they carried back home to Share with the rest.’

2010 Copyright © LongBeard Stories by Susan Bellingan Fourie

Acknowledgement: shamanelder, thegrowspot, kingsnake, dreamstime, parigigi wordpress, millionface, paw-talk.net, flickr, shutterstock, anatom, hoboken411, fotosearch, jrcompton, naturfoto-cz.de, thingsville, connexionz

Fatty

Truth was, she was getting fatter by the day. Most days she had been glued to the TV, obsessed with watching the tennis championships.

Now Spring was upon them and she realised that none of her summer clothes fitted her anymore! It was the first time she had ever felt this negative about her body. In stead of acknowledging how blessed she was with the voice of an angel, she rejected herself outright on the basis of being 5kg heavier than what she wanted to be.


She looked at her body in the mirror and thoughts of self-loathing and disgust at her recent gluttonous habits filled her mind.

Suddenly her little toypom appeared in the room, barking excitedly at the prospect of being taken for a walk. He licked her bare toes and danced on his hind legs.

She instantly pushed away her depressing thoughts and smiled at him. “How come you always love me?” she asked and gently stroked the dog’s head.

“Because love means accepting myself as I am”, her Inner Voice replied.

She clipped the dog’s lead onto his collar. “Yes,” she thought, “I do love myself. I have just not been caring for my body as well as I should, and I have fallen into bad habits. I’ll think positively from now on and accept that even with the best of intentions, staying in shape at my age takes a little more effort than before!”

2010 Copyright © Susan Bellingan Fourie

Acknowledgements: blazelightaround.co.uk, picturesof.net, petsplace, best-of-web, shutterstock

Mother and Daughter

Molly sauntered over to where LongBeard was sitting on his favourite red and white toadstool. Molly wanted LongBeard to help her with dream interpretation. She carried a little scroll with the words from her dream on it.


“LongBeard, please help me understand my dream,” she requested. LongBeard read the words, closed his eyes for a minute and puffed on his harmless herbacco pipe. Then he patted the toadstool next to him and said, “Come and sit next to me. Here is the story which will help you understand your dream:


The phone connection was suddenly and unexpectedly broken. That came as no surprise, taking the heavy snowfall of the last day into account. Still, June felt deeply disappointed about it happening at exactly this time.

She had been speaking to her mother and for the first time in years they addressed the painful topic of her father’s disappearance from their lives. The duality in which they had lived before was finally coming to an end. At last her mother seemed motivated to speak about the past events in a congruent and honest way. This time she was open about the pain that it had caused her, rather than pretending that all was well. In the past June could clearly feel that her mother was just using polite words to try and preserve peace and harmony in the family. She had a habit of only speaking positively about others and would rather deny the truth of her own feelings than admit the hurt openly.

Reflecting on their conversation, Jane stepped into the kitchen. The blend of aromatic smells coming from the cooker lifted her somber mood and she started to pay attention to her physical surroundings. She removed the lid from the soup pot and deeply breathed in the smell of mixed herbs and spices.

The food was ready and as she laid the table to have dinner, she could feel an inner peace returning. She shook off her serious thoughts and sat down to enjoy the meal.”


2010 Copyright LongBeard Stories by Susan Bellingan Fourie

Acknowledgements: www.blazelightaround.com, gnomeoutlet.com, dcs4ever.blogspot

Horse Rescue!

It was a beautiful summers day. LongBeard and Missy, the little grey field mouse, were having a picnic with their friends.

Missy loved telling stories. She babbled enthusiastically about all the things she had been observing on the farm where she lives.

“Today,” she said “I want to tell you about the horse that got stuck in the mud.”

“It was mid term vacation and the children were home from boarding school. Carla, the farmer’s 10-year old daughter, was looking forward to riding her horse, Prince. He liked staying in the vicinity of the barn, where the workers often gave him extra hay and regularly brushed his coat.

My ears pricked up when I heard Carla calling Prince’s name again and again. I knew that something was wrong, as Prince usually comes quickly when she calls him. I had been busy sewing blankets for my 12 children and had not taken notice of what was going on outside.

I peeked through a hole and saw Carla walk towards a clump of trees not far from the barn. She disappeared behind them, but then suddenly came running back, yelling, ‘Daddy! Daddy! Help! Prince is stuck in the mud!’

The farmer and workers came running when they heard Carla calling. She told them what she had seen. The men were experienced in dealing with animals that were stuck, as this was a danger on any farm, especially when the water levels started to drop in the mud dams.

Cecil ran to get the tractor, Paul went to get some strong ropes and Jonas loaded chains, webbing and a metal tripod.”

“I could not contain my curiosity,” said Milly. “I scampered to where the action was as fast as my legs could carry me. There I climbed into a tree to see what was happening.

Cecil cautiously approached the horse, which seemed to be very frightened, for the whites of his eyes were showing and he was breathing fast through flared nostrils. He whistled softly and calmly while stroking the horse’s neck. He spoke gently and soothingly, trying to get him to relax. As if Prince could understand him, he whinnied softly and his eyes became calm. Prince was very dirty, as he must have been thrashing about in his efforts to get out.

The mud itself did not seem to be particularly deep and Cecil wondered what had caused Prince to get stuck. He felt the horse’s front legs one by one and noticed that they were free. Although he seemed to be standing firmly, the poor horse was quivering with exhaustion. Cecil checked the hind legs and noticed that one was lodged tightly in the mud. He could feel something hard in front of and behind it and surmised that Prince’s leg was jammed against some pieces of wood. Although three of Prince’s legs were free, he seemed unable to pull himself out. His strength was clearly waning and judging by the leeches that had started attaching themselves to his legs, Cecil judged that he must have been in the water for at least a day.

Paul started the water pump which was attached to the back of the tractor and began draining the water out of the muddy pool. In the meantime, Cecil and Jonas attached the webbing harness under Prince’s stomach, across his chest and under his tail. Once it was in place the men secured it above his back to a strong metal bar. Then they tied a chain to it and hooked it up to the tripod which Jonas had securely planted next to the mud pool.

As Paul pumped the water out they could see more clearly what was going on. Jonas, Carla and Cecil wiped the leeches off Prince’s legs as the water drained away. Prince stood quietly, supported by the web harness and tripod. Cecil was grateful, as their efforts would have been severely hampered if the horse decided to kick and thrash about in the water.

At last the mud was completely exposed and they could clearly see the wooden branches which were trapping the leg. They pushed it as far away as they could, but it seemed as if by now Prince was too weak to pull his leg out.

In the meantime, the experienced Paul had unhitched the water pump from the tractor. He drove to the tripod and transferred the chain to the tractor’s raised plough arms. His skillful maneuver ensured the chain remained tight the whole time, keeping Prince supported. At a sign from Cecil, he slowly drove forward, lifting Prince up and out of the mud.

With this additional assistance Prince was able to free his trapped leg and they pulled him to dry ground. Prince was shaking with fatigue, but eventually stood quietly on three legs, holding the injured one in the air.

With expert hands Cecil examined all four Prince’s legs as well as the other parts of his body which had been under water. He noticed that the one leg was swollen and had a shallow gash across the front. Jonas used a rag to wipe down the mud and they were satisfied that Prince had suffered no other serious injuries.

By now Prince had gingerly put his hind leg down on the ground and he whinnied softly, almost as if to thank the people. Carla hugged him and burst into tears. ‘Oh Prince, I am so glad that you are okay. I got such a fright,’ she sobbed while kissing him on his face. ‘Thank you, Daddy, Paul and Jonas, for rescuing Prince!’

She put a soft rope halter on Prince and very slowly led him back to the barn. Poor Prince was limping and seemed to be in pain. At the barn, Jonas helped Carla to wash Prince down with clean water and disinfectant. They wiped him dry with some old towels and put some ointment on the gash. While all this was going on, Prince was happily munching on some lucern from a haynet, almost closing his eyes in delight.

Jonas took a bandage that he had soaked in some comfrey tea and wrapped it around Prince’s swollen leg. He knew the herb would work quickly and that the swelling would go down within hours. Prince would walk normally again.

I returned to my peeping hole in the attic door and watched it all from there,” Missy said proudly. “Jonas is such a good horseman. Under his expert care and Carla’s loving feeding and watering, Prince was soon back to his old self.

Within three days of the near tragedy Carla and Prince were galloping all over the farm as if nothing had ever happened!”

2010 Copyright © LongBeard Stories by Susan Bellingan Fourie

Acknowledgements: Jillene Henderson, agraphic, bearcreeknursery, 1^st-art-gallery, horsemanmagazine, kyfireacademy, sanparks.org, getethical, picturesearch, flickr, chescocart.

Letting go of Fear

LongBeard and Pippo were walking along the footpath. Pippo was unusually quiet. “What’s wrong, my young friend?” LongBeard enquired. “I had a disturbing dream last night,” Pippo said. “I wonder if you can help me understand it.” “Well,” said LongBeard, “what were the most important words from the dream?” “Four words come to mind,” Pippo said. “They were: take, fly, sadness and leave.” “Hmmm,” murmured LongBeard and puffed on his herbacco pipe. After a few minutes of quiet reflection, he said, “Pippo, here is the story which will help you understand your dream:

“Quickly! Take my hand,” yelled the soldier to the little girl.

She tentatively reached out to him but he missed getting a firm hold on her and the helicopter turned to fly past once more. The little girl looked distressed. She was standing on the top of a house, surrounded by raging flood waters. Sadness and compassion filled the hearts of the determined soldiers as they circled over the area and saw the extent of the devastation that had occurred in such a short period of time.

The soldier that was hanging suspended from the rope attached to the helicopter leaned forward as they approached the house again. It seemed as if this was the last surviving occupant and she was desperately clinging to the chimney. The rescue was difficult, as timing was of the utmost importance. The little girl had to be brave enough to let go of the chimney and reach out to the soldier at the exact time he came passed. They had tried this several times already, and each time she had been too afraid to do what was required of her. At the same time the soldier had to be careful not to collide with the chimney.

The water was rising fast and was only a meter away from her feet. The helicopter pilot was grinding his teeth in frustration as the strong wind made his task more difficult. He said a prayer for the little girl and wished that the wind would quieten down. He knew they would be successful if the soldier could get closer to his target without swinging so wildly.

Suddenly and miraculously his prayers were answered. There was a lull in the wind just as the helicopter approached the little girl. The soldier who was suspended in the harness called to her: “You can do it! When I say ‘NOW’, just grab my hand and you will be safe!” The little girl nodded, her eyes huge in her pale face. As they got closer he could see her knuckles whitening as she held on to the chimney more tightly. “Please God,” whispered the soldier, “just let her trust me. Help her to take my hand.” It was indeed a day of miracles, for as he got to her and shouted, “NOW!” she let go of the chimney and bravely reached out to him.

He gripped her little hand firmly and quickly gathered her close. She was as light as a feather and he could easily hold her with one hand while he clipped the safety harness around her body. He gave the thumbs up sign to the pilot and heard his mates in the chopper let out a cheer of joy.

At last they were ready to leave the area of devastation. Cradling the little girl safely to his chest, he whispered a relieved “Thank You” to God for answering his prayers."

2010 Copyright LongBeard stories Susan Bellingan Fourie

Acknowledgements: blazelightaround.co.uk, civildefence.govt.nz, devoncoast.info, nss.ga.ca, randi.org