Dedication-3
1456 Words
The Flower fell silent. The Star took a deep breath and whispered:
“Things are as you said. You are right! But it might happen that you feel more appreciated and more wanted in foreign and faraway lands, rather than in your own home! The trouble is that your soul feels lonely, empty, wandering, even if foreign lands offer you special comfort...”
“So?” the Flower dared to speak again. “Why don’t you stay here, since this is the place where you were born? Look, there is a creature that believes in you, as the law that I mentioned maintains! Perhaps more than one…”
“Yes? Who?” asked the Star, looking around.
The Little Flower smiled shyly:
“Me, the seed…” she smiled a little, showing it to him. “Do you think there can be any creature on this earth that becomes fulfilled if they can’t enjoy the shining stars that whisper magical stories each evening?”
The Star gave her a scrutinising look; the Flower thought the stars from up high shone strangely on hearing her words.
“And... the two old friends believe in you, too!” she added, pointing at the hill. “The Frost and the Old Wind!” she said enthusiastically. “Not to mention Princess Winter. They rejoice and believe in the shimmering of all stars, no matter how small, no matter how distant! They know better than anyone that each detail in the Universe has an essential role to play in the big picture!”
The Star looked in the direction of the hill. Nature’s old knights were looking at them.
“And then?... Your sisters?” added the Flower.
The Little Star looked in turn at those mentioned by the Flower: the Frost, the Old Wind, Princess Winter! Even the magical night that hides unimaginable stories seemed to be reflecting the mysterious brightness given off by the stars, in agreement with the Flower’s words.
The Star contemplated the sight for a while, weighing her words. Then looked at the Flower:
“I am sorry, but I think I have to leave...” he said slowly, with bitterness in his voice.
It seems that the disappointment experienced on coming back to his native lands he’d left long ago had been much too great, and he could not be easily persuaded to do otherwise. The Flower wanted to make a final plea. The snow mantle covering her fell again to the ground. The frost was sharp at that time of night and, defeated, the Flower fell to her knees.
“You did not even think of my words...” she whispered in a voice which was becoming fainter. “I am certain that other stars from hereabouts will support you. As for me... I make a pledge to look after you from here on ... Caring for you just like for this seed...” she opened her hands widely, while her voice became increasingly fainter.
A ray of light from above rested on the seed’s warm body in the Flower’s hands: the seed was so clean, translucent, that it instantly mirrored the sky in it!
It was increasingly cold... The Flower bent over, lowering her head. Large tears started to fall on the seed in her hands:
“I will take care of you like you were my child...” she murmured fainter and fainter, holding the seed tighter in her hand. “I will bathe you daily in my tears, so that disappointment and sadness would never cover your face. Your charm and confidence shall never again be overshadowed by anything that life throws at you!”
The star looked at her, very much amazed. The Flower’s words were sharper than the tip of an icicle and even purer than its body made of ice! They had managed to pierce the steely armour of disappointment that had branded the star’s soul upon his return! Her words were sincere!
The Flower felt that his coldness and stony gaze had softened a little.
“Nothing is stronger than flowers’ tears!” she continued to whisper. “They are so pure, that the creature touching them becomes immortal!”
The Star turned to face her. He seemed to want to absorb these last words of the frozen flower to their full extent! The Flower sensed him doubting his decision, and she kept holding the seed close to her chest, hoping to awaken warm feelings of love and joy in the star’s soul...
The Star looked around. A mysterious murmur had suddenly started in nature. The echo of the Flower’s words had mingled with the whistle of the Old Wind, giving birth to a new, unheard of song.
“Stay, Little Star! Stay!” that winter rhapsody born out of nothingness seemed to whisper to him. “You will be bale to shed light over your own lands during late nights when the beautiful moon whispers beautiful love words to the earth. It is the only way to make those words come alive!”
The Frost threw to the skies a wave of glitter gathered from the vaults of heaven, and the Old Wind immediately lifted them up, joining in the winter’s night’s magical song:
“How much pride do other lands take in the stars that watch over them!” whispered the magnificent song. “Stay... stay...” resounded its echo.
The Star looked at the Flower cowed with cold. He leaned towards her and picked up again the snow mantle and covered her frozen shoulders with it. He scattered the snowflakes that the Frost gathered to throw over her petals, darkening their colour, and he looked into the Flower’s eyes. Large tears hurried down on the frozen cheeks, and by the time they reached the seed’s body they were already frozen, changing into shining little hearts.
The Star wanted to wipe her tears and he smiled, the first time in a long while.
All the other stars spontaneously joined him in shining their lights in unison. Because of their light, night disappeared and the moon was transformed into the sun! Apart from the Flower and the Star, all those present disappeared as if through magic. Not even the snaking road, shown just a moment before seemed to ever have existed!
The Little Flower looked in disbelief at everything that was going on. She thought that maybe the unforgiving Frost had made her pass out and now she was dreaming. No! It was not an illusion. The Star was still there carefully putting the snow mantle back on her shoulders.
“You should know, beautiful Flower,” he whispered, “that the sacrifice of your tears reaching the altar of sincerity was received! I will stay among the stars that watch over these lands...”
Things had been too much for the Little Flower. Frost had made his mind up about cutting down any life form that dared to confront him. Including the Flower that talked to a star! Her body became weaker, almost ready to fall, but the Star caught her in time! His arms were cold, but the Flower felt safe. The first lights of dawn were going to transport them both towards other worlds, the way it always happens with the stars when Sun comes into his own. Any life form bows down in front of the master of light, to whom the existence of this world is due...
...Just like the flower in this little story convinced the Little Star to stay among the stars of his native lands, Adriana was the only person who convinced me from the very start that the Little Frog’s Heart must be born in its mother tongue and not in the language adopted when I left the lands where I was born. Emigrating, choosing other destinations at some point in your life is not the easiest choice. And you do not always do it because this is what you want! Of course, many things of value have been thus stymied, often because of the ignorance of the people we choose to leave behind!
Having a gifted editor beside me, having recognised mentors from the literary field, and having you, my dear readers, always close to me, even if I am a writer just starting on this road, I hold the conviction that we can, together, pave our road to success within the wider world literature!
Worldwide, we are now the witnesses of a new literary current: from the remains of postmodernism a new type of literature is emerging. Maybe it does not have a name yet. We can use the notion of “magical realism” (encountered here and there), but I believe that we would not be wrong if we’d call it “neo-humanist literature”. The conceptual sources of this literature were seen by some in the doctrines of Fromm and Maslow. What I think it is absolutely phenomenal about this new current is the fact that it easily wins over the hearts and minds of children, but also whilst, at the same time, touching the lives of many adults.
“A Little Frog’s Heart” fits almost ideally in the conception of this phenomenon: Magical realism and neo-humanist ideology!
- Writer
