Happy National Tell a Fairy Tale Day. I’ve been reflecting on my favorite fairy tales when I was young. Some my mother told when I was just a kid: Hansel and Gretel, The Bremen Town Musicians, and The Three Billy Goats Gruff. I can still imagine my mom’s voice saying, “Trip-trap, trip-trap, over the bridge.” I had older sisters myself, and it delighted me that the youngest, smallest goat’s oldest brother defeated the troll.
What strikes me now about all three of these tales is that none of them is about romantic love. I admired Hansel’s clever attempt to save his sister and himself by leaving a trail of breadcrumbs, even if that was thwarted by hungry birds. And his cleverness helped save himself when he was caged by the short-sighted witch: handing her a chicken bone when she asked to feel his finger, convincing her he was too thin to eat. Gretel’s cleverness and courage saved the day for both of them: feigning igorance and shoving the witch inside her own oven. In the story I was told, when the witch was defeated, gingerbread boys and girls all around the candy house were released from enchantment and saved along with Hansel and Gretel.
I think I asked my mother to tell me the story of The Bremen Town Musicians over and over. The heroes of this tale aren’t brothers and sisters; they aren’t even the same species, but a donkey, a dog, a cat, and a rooster, all cast off by cruel or uncaring owners. They acted together, raised their voices and drove off thieves to claim their own good home. I remember feeling particular glee in how the cat convinced the thieves there was a demon in the house. In the end, these very different animals became their own family.
Another story I loved, more mysterious and elusive, was The Wild Swans. A princess saves her eleven brothers from a curse that turned them into swans. Her courage and heroism do not depend on swords or battle. She wove shirts out of nettles for her brothers, suffering blistered hands in silence and unable to defend herself from accusations of witchcraft, because if she spoke, her brothers would die. Just as she was led to her execution, her brothers the swans arrived to rescue her, and she threw the shirts over them, breaking the enchantment on them. There was a king who had fallen in love with her and was glad of her redemption. But the great, true love of the story was between sister and brothers. It saved them all, and the silent princess found her voice.
Heroism and courage take many forms. Sometimes, it takes acting together, and finding our voices.
Gemma L. Brook 