December was a cold, cold time in Willow Wood. Snowstorms, hail and freezing was an obvious side-effect of being atop a mountain. Momma and Poppa’s resolve with the rest of the forest-folk was a brave decision. One that required much heart and courage. The support and togetherness that the rest of the forest members offered these two miserable parents was praiseworthy.
Tom and Mary, on the other hand, were busy preparing for Christmas. They wanted Millie to learn how to decorate for a festive season. Ornaments and vines to decorate the cottage, and a tree, freshly brought in from the forest, to be stood up and decorated to celebrate Christmas. Among tales and stories of the festival and other fun memories dug up from their own past festivities, Millie was delighted to learn, hear and imbibe. Milo, on the other hand, was feeling a bit down for the past few days. He missed his Momma and Poppa; they were all that he had known, before he found a family in Tom, Mary and Millie. His new mom, dad and sister!
While he still completed his chores around the house (little, as they may), he felt moopy, melancholic and miserable. The feeling that one usually goes through when they’re torn between going forward and looking back.
“Milo, let’s go see what Grandma has prepared for our Christmas feast. I am sure it’s going to be something you love too!”, she chimed when she entered the barn.
“I miss my Momma and Poppa”, said Milo meekly. Millie ran to Mary to tell her how Milo is feeling. “Grandma! Milo is sad. He misses his Mommy and Daddy. He looks like he is going to cry. Come fast, Grandma!”, she tugged at Mary. Ever so soft in her feelings, Mary lurched with Millie towards Milo; the poor baby. If it wasn’t for them, Millie would be feeling the same. She had to rescue Milo from his sadness. She picked Milo up in her arms, and hugged him fiercely. “Dear Milo. I know you miss your parents. I wish we could find them for you. Don’t fret, we are always going to be here with you. We will do our best to make you happy.”, and then she took him to the kitchen.
“Look, I’ve specially made a carrot cake for you. And chicken pies are on their way too! I know you will love them.”, she convinced Milo. He cracked a slight smile. Regardless of whether he would ever have Momma and Poppa again, Tom, Mary and Millie were always going to be his family. He would be happy, eventually.
A few kilometres away, the journey had begun. To come take their little boy away from these evil humans. Evil, to take someone’s child away. Momma, Poppa and the forest folk, guided by the fairies and their glitter. They began walking slowly, bags packed with food and supplies. It was the morning of 24th December; their journey had been delayed by three days owing to a raving snowstorm. They had to retreat into their holes and homes, to save themselves from being taken away by the gusts of wind.
They huffed and puffed until they reached the edge of the forest. A few hours of walking and they would reach the terrifying mansion of the humans.
“I wonder if they’ve kept my little boy alive. I know how these humans are. Always coming into the forest to steal us for food and what not. Oh god, what if they’ve fed him to their other animals!”, started crying Momma. She was frantic. Terrified of what must be the condition of her son, her Baba.
“Don’t cry woman. We will get our boy. They better not have done anything to him!”, angrily replied Poppa. Permanently living in denial of the worst that could happen, he was certain that his son was safe.
Slowly, and filled with tiredness, they reached the gates of the cottage. A small one, to the human eye; but a fortress for the little forest folk. It seemed like another mountain to climb. Poppa was close by, trimming the leaves off his garden plants. Gnomes were just in stories; in real life, we have to be the gnomes for our own gardens. He had a basket of snacks beside him, for whenever tiredness took over and he needed a break.
The forest folk observed from afar. FatherTree, furious as he was, noticed the food basket; full of muffins, some fruits and a can of milk. His belly began growling and he knew he had to refuel himself. Without thinking, he lurched forward, ran towards the gate. He crossed over the bushes and reached for some milk from the basket. Tom turned around and lost balance; albeit for a minute. He was astonished. What was he looking at? A tree was drinking milk from his basket. He slapped himself a couple of times, to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. He thought he was dreaming. But the slapping cleared it up for him. This was real; there was a tree standing at his own height and drinking his milk. A small hissing sound caught his attention. The fairies were calling out to FatherTree for his stupid actions. Oh, he was in for a scolding.
Tom squinted and noticed that there were mushrooms, carrots, small trees, fairies (oh, fairies!) and other vegetation walking toward him. WALKING TOWARD HIM!
“Oh God. I better run. Mary! Mary!”, he started fiddling with his things and calling out to his wife. The only person to run to in times of trouble and confusion.
“What? What is it? Have you dropped your snacks again? You solid old man. I am tired of you and your forgetfulness!”. Mary was clearly irritated. Time tends to mould relationships in a way that freedom sometimes becomes boredom too. She stepped out, and fainted at the sight of a forest army at her gates.
An hour and argument later, they were all seated in the living room. Momma and Poppa clutching Milo like he was going to be taken away by the wind. The fairies guarding the doors, FatherTree pacing back and forth (and also burping generously), and the carrots looking at the cake on the table in fear. Oh, the carrot cake! Haha!
Mary’s eyes opened to the ceiling. “Oh thank god Tom, I was having such a horrible nightmare!”, she was pleased to see her husband this time. When she looked beyond, she saw her nightmare in reality.
A few explanations later, she realised Milo was not the only one. Of course, he had to have had a family. A world he came from. One that he missed so dearly. She began sobbing. Another child was being taken away from her.
Milo took Momma and Poppa aside and spoke to them. He explained gently how they have been taking care of him, feeding him well and giving him the same love that they would. That he never ran away, and they never wanted to kill or cook him. They just wanted their little girl to have a friend.
They soon realised that Tom and Mary were generous humans. That no one was out to get them, and that this house held so much love for them. Tom offered an idea; why don’t the forest folk reside in their barn, in the warmth and comfort of their home. Food would be provided, and they will all live merrily together.
The mushrooms, carrots, fairies and trees huddled together to decide. Whispering, arguing and conversing later, they came back with a decision. “No carrot cakes or soups, no mushroom soups and certainly no hacking of trees in the area where we live. We wish for harmony, yes, but we also want a guarantee of our safety!”, negotiated Poppa.
‘Of course, my friend. We will feed you well, keep you safe and also let you help out in our daily chores. Our dear Millie will love to play with you and your children daily. She is going to grow up to learn better than any child her age!”, Tom agreed.
Since truces were called, and love was spread around, it was time to also spread some food. Chicken Pies, Quiches and Carrot Cakes (the carrots frowned upon eating their kin; but the rest enjoyed whole-heartedly) were passed around for everyone to indulge in. As the clock struck midnight, Millie looked up at the stars, with Milo by her side, thanking God for everything good in her life.
A tiny snowflake tickled her nose and they continued sipping their hot-chocolate. This was going to be a long, fulfilling and happy life for her!
Written By Anisha Masand
Week 52, December ’20
