the fatal flower
The Fatal Flower
Long ago in a faraway kingdom there was a girl called Gem who hated the way she looked. She was so ashamed that she refused to leave the house. Instead, she would stand in her little court yard and peek through the gates at the other girl as they passed by in the village lane. “What pretty eyes she has,” she would sigh. “Why can’t I have eyes like that?” or she would stare enviously at someone else. “Look at how graceful she is. Why can’t I walk like that?” Her exasperated mother would tell her that she looked fine. “You should go outside. You’ve got two eyes and a nose and a mouth, all in the right place. Why do you have to complain all the time?” “Because other girls have their eyes, noses, and mouths arranged much better than me,” Gem Insisted. I’m so repulsive that they’ll just laugh.” “Its different flowers for different eyes,” her mother said. Though her mother coaxed and scolded, Gem remained inside trying to make herself beautiful. From herbs her family gathered for her, she tried to make all sorts of pills, lotions, and ointment. Some were to make her skin smooth as silk. Other were to make her hair shiny and full. Whichever one she tried, she was always disappointed; and the smells from all her brews almost drove her family from the house. Eyes watering from the smoke and holding his nose against the stench, her father found her by the stove getting ready to throw out her latest failure. “I can’t stand it anymore. They say there’s a wise woman who has the power to change things. Maybe she can make you into what you want to be. Follow the river to the hill.” By now, Gem was desperate enough to try anything. The next morning before sunrise, she sneaked out with a piece of cloth wrapped around her head as a veil. Keeping to the high riverbank, she followed the wide, muddy river until she reached the hill. The wise woman’s hut sat upon the top, surrounded by terraced fields where herbs grew in neat, well – tended rows. Harvested
Long ago in a faraway kingdom there was a girl called Gem who hated the way she looked. She was so ashamed that she refused to leave the house. Instead, she would stand in her little court yard and peek through the gates at the other girl as they passed by in the village lane. “What pretty eyes she has,” she would sigh. “Why can’t I have eyes like that?” or she would stare enviously at someone else. “Look at how graceful she is. Why can’t I walk like that?” Her exasperated mother would tell her that she looked fine. “You should go outside. You’ve got two eyes and a nose and a mouth, all in the right place. Why do you have to complain all the time?” “Because other girls have their eyes, noses, and mouths arranged much better than me,” Gem Insisted. I’m so repulsive that they’ll just laugh.” “Its different flowers for different eyes,” her mother said. Though her mother coaxed and scolded, Gem remained inside trying to make herself beautiful. From herbs her family gathered for her, she tried to make all sorts of pills, lotions, and ointment. Some were to make her skin smooth as silk. Other were to make her hair shiny and full. Whichever one she tried, she was always disappointed; and the smells from all her brews almost drove her family from the house. Eyes watering from the smoke and holding his nose against the stench, her father found her by the stove getting ready to throw out her latest failure. “I can’t stand it anymore. They say there’s a wise woman who has the power to change things. Maybe she can make you into what you want to be. Follow the river to the hill.” By now, Gem was desperate enough to try anything. The next morning before sunrise, she sneaked out with a piece of cloth wrapped around her head as a veil. Keeping to the high riverbank, she followed the wide, muddy river until she reached the hill. The wise woman’s hut sat upon the top, surrounded by terraced fields where herbs grew in neat, well – tended rows. Harvested