Karolin the Fairy and the Tame Fox

Gorma stood trying to read the signs along the path, signs which had once been written clearly but had now been painted over, scratched out, and worn away, so that their original wording and intent were totally unclear. As she was puzzling over these confusing signs, she heard a small voice, like the sweet chirp of the smallest bird, and so, following the dancing butterflies who twirled down the left path ahead of her, Gorma soon found the source of the tiny sound.

It was a fairy, named Karolin, and she was tending to an injured lizard whose legs were too tired to skitter him along the stone wall beside the path. “Yes, I know the task is hard, and it will indeed make your legs more tired, at first. But if you do the healing work, and practice, you can regain your quickness up and down the wall, I promise you,” Karolin encouraged the lizard. And off he went, with bandaged joints, to practice how to quickly skitter-skitter.

Gorma called to Karolin, whose bright smile lit up the path. Her wings, like a dragonfly’s, quickly brought her to Gorma’s side, and she hugged Gorma with great affection and delight. “Oh, Gorma, Gorma, how wonderful to see you! Always I smile when I know you are beside me.” For Karolin’s great talent lay in healing all the wild ones in her domain, and sweet words of encouragement were a ready part of her medicine.

Gorma walked along as Karolin flitted on her dragonfly wings from one to the next of her patients. Here a blackbird ached with a wing that had been broken; now the wing had healed, but it still hurt the bird to fly. “You must not give up, darling blackbird,” Karolin cajoled. “Your mended wing will be the stronger for having been broken. Do the healing work, and practice letting go the pain, as we’ve worked on all along. You will fly away in no time, now,” Karolin explained, smiling.

Next, a wildflower struggled just to face the sun. Karolin, like all sweet fairies, hovered over it, and softly whispered, “Grow, grow.” For the fairies of this world wish for all the beauty of our wildest natures to grow strong and be revealed.

As they sipped clear water where it trickled like a song over the smooth stones, Gorma became thoughtful, realizing how she might have need of Karolin’s help.

“Karolin, what good could you do for a tamed creature? Would your medicine be able to heal him, as well?”

Karolin looked up, shaking water from her hands like a blessing over the little fish in the stream. “Oh, Gorma, Gorma, the only medicine I have is to find each patient’s will to heal, and harness that. For each body may be healed, it’s true, by herbs and wraps and rest. But the body must be used to live the life. And broken wings will hurt to fly, at first, until they’re stronger at the broken places than before.”

“So it must be,” Gorma nodded, “yes, I understand. And yet, I think your healing might be just the thing.” So at Gorma’s urging, Karolin followed her down the path to where it opened near the outskirts of a village. And here, lying in the sun along the path, dozed a rusty-orange fellow with a lovely, short black beard and black tip to his tail. He was beautiful to see, and it was a shame to wake him, but that is just what Gorma did.

“Saulomon, I’ve brought a friend,” she offered, and introduced him to tiny Karolin.

“Saulomon, how nice to meet you. I am a fairy, as you can see. But might I ask, what kind of creature are you?”

Saulomon stretched and smiled and winked an eye. “Why of course, I am a village dog,” he fairly sang, in his wild and carefree voice.

“A dog?” Karolin replied. “I’ve met no dog as rusty-orange as you, with short black beard and tip of tail. What breed of dog, and to which home do you belong?”

“I do not know. So maybe that’s not right. I think that I am actually a cat,” Saulomon replied, licking his front foot as if it really didn’t matter, a manner like a cat, but not a cat at all.

“A cat?” Karolin cried. “Can it be you do not know?”

“Or a chicken! How I long to live among them in their little cozy house. It all seems so delicious in there,” Saulomon said longingly, but with a naughty grin that Karolin caught at once.

“Oh, Gorma, Gorma, can it be? This fellow feels wild, but I fear he has tamed himself in hopes of comfort and ease. Can this be so?” Karolin asked, clearly concerned now.

“Indeed, little Karolin, it is far too common an occurrence, unfortunately,” Gorma replied, and they both watched Saulomon try his best to walk with his four furry legs like a two-legged, bony-legged chicken. “It’s quite funny, at times…until it becomes quite sad.” At this, Saulomon tried to howl with the village dogs, but only managed a quick squeal and a few high yips.

“That’s quite enough,” Karolin interrupted, flying directly up to Saulomon’s face and stopping him mid-yip. “The question is: do you wish to heal, or do you not?”

Saulomon looked shocked. “Heal? Am I sick?”

“Oh, in a most terrible way, Saulomon,” Karolin replied seriously. “You are wild, but you are tamed – you have tamed yourself.”

Purring like a cat, he asked, “I am wild, so you say?” And now Saulomon slid charmingly past Karolin’s soft arms. “How wild am I?”

Karolin’s cheeks flushed quite red. “There are many kinds of wild,” she nodded firmly. “You have forgotten most of them by now, save your sly charm.”

“Mmm, ‘sly charm,’ she says; I like it,” Saulomon smiled, winking once again.

“So you must choose,” Karolin held firm. “Do you wish to heal your wildness, or do you wish to go on pretending you are tame?”

“It’s so easy, really, dear sweet Karolin,” he answered. “I have them all fooled, you know, the villagers.”

“The only one you are fooling is yourself,” injected Gorma. “Saulomon, I bring you a healing fairy, and you flirt instead.”

“Ah, Gorma, Gorma, I like flirting – it’s in my blood, and in the tip of my beautiful tail. Oh, all right,” he gave in, seeing Gorma’s eyes. “Dear Karolin, if you can heal my wildness, then that is what I wish.”

“I cannot,” Karolin spoke up. “Not me. Only you.”

Saulomon looked shocked again, and annoyed. “I do not like these riddles! First you badger me, and now you leave me to my self.”

“Oh no! No, Saulomon,” Karolin replied kindly. “I will help you all I can. But you must do the healing work, and practice, and then you will be wild again.”

And so they set to work that very hour, and Saulomon worked very hard, for he had quite fallen in love with the little fairy. He practiced keeping to the treeline at the edge of the pastureland, and weaving among the shadows. He dug a smooth den into a little hillside, and finally found a delicious beetle to eat, which he hunted and caught all by himself, he was proud to tell.

As the day wore on, Saulomon spoke less and less, and playful though he was, a certain shyness crept upon him, and he stayed among the tall grasses more, and off the open path. Karolin called and called his name, and finally, he trotted out at twilight, hardly visible even to her clever fairy eyes. “Saulomon, you are the best patient I have ever had! You’ve learned to love your wildness well! I think you will be fine. Shall we start again tomorrow in the morning?” and here Karolin gave Saulomon her warmest smile.

“Mmm…I think not, sweet Karolin,” Saulomon replied quite smoothly. “I agree, I am recovering most wildly and well. Which is why I will be on my way, my beautiful, kind fairy. You can come away with me, if you would like.”

And now Karolin blushed red again, and said, “But who will heal the others?”

“Yes, so true; it’s you will do this healing. How I love you, little fairy, but I must be on my foxy way. I cannot stay.” And with that, he simply vanished into evening, and the setting sun saw just the tip of his tail before it slipped out of sight. Karolin was sad, but smiled, as she did when all the wild creatures in her care were free again. Then she flew back to check the blackbird’s wing and the lizard’s legs, hugging Gorma affectionately as always before she went, and saying goodbye.

Gorma walked on, quiet and smiling. She arrived at the next albergue just in time for a bed, for which she was very grateful, and she slept deeply. Outside, the fireflies’ flickering lights guided the sweet fairies on their dragonfly wings, bending over each sleeping meadow flower, whispering, “Grow, grow.”

Buen Camino, Karolin and Saulomon.