Fellowship & Fairydust

~by Giada Silvestro

 

“I want to fall in love!” “If you don’t know what love is, you don’t have age, wisdom, awareness….” Hadassah remained absorbed in her thoughts, once again disappointed by the answers that returned to her.
At ten years old, she seemed to possess all the colours of the rainbow; sky-blue eyes, golden-blonde hair; her small form veiled in pink and pale red, and, as always, dressed in the brightest colours that she could find.  Her emotions; sensitivity, passion and positivity seeped from her very pores— a quality that many who knew her envied. Her way of approaching life certainly made her unique, but it also made her vulnerable at times. 

Her mother, Kala, seemed to always be scolding her, forever saying hurtful things like… “Why are you always underfoot!” “What’s so funny this time?” and “Wipe that silly smile off your face!” She loved her mother dearly, but under her constant, critical gaze, Hadassah could not be herself, and she felt guilty that she could not be the daughter her mother wanted her to be. She tried to employ her spare time better by reading, painting and praying. She prayed that one day, everyone would understand her and find the truth of love. 

Hadassah didn’t have many close friends either. At school, she got along with everyone. Many of the other children considered her to be very original and eccentric; in short, she stood out from the crowd. The hour spent studying religion at school, as well as those studying art and reading, were her favourite times of the school day. She listened, understood and secreted away within herself every explicit and veiled teaching she could receive from her teacher, Master Amos Elia. 

Master Elia, was a man of thirty-five, quite a young age for a man of teaching. But, despite his youth, he was old and wise in learning. 

Tall and dark, his eyes, like two silver headlights, stood out in his ebony face – eyes that immobilised anyone who found themselves caught within his gaze. 

Hadassah was enraptured by her teacher. The fairy tales he would tell her class always touched her deeply. Often, in the lunch hour, she would seek Amos Elia out to talk as he patiently listened to all of her existential doubts. His counsel was given to her without judgment, a world apart from that of the other people in her life. 

Hadassah recognised, perhaps, in him the father she had never known? When her mother, at the age of twenty-eight, found herself pregnant, Hadassah’s father had left the family to go on a peace mission, enlisting as a military volunteer in the hopes of better supporting his new family. Hadassah’s mother had not known precisely where this mission was going to take him and didn’t even have the name of a place to begin searching when the years passed and he never returned. 

Despite this sad beginning, Hadassah had always been a serene and joyful child, even though she was the only child in her class to have only a mother to come home to each day. She was content with her life because she always tried to think of those who had so much less than what she possessed; after all, when she returned from school, she could count on a mother who, although gruff, still helped her with her homework, cooked for her, and worked to keep a roof under which she could rest, far from the inhabited centre of the town. Their home was close to a beautiful wood almost completely uncontaminated by human presence. Hadassah loved the nature around her house. It was far from civilisation, and her mother often complained because she had to walk miles in the hot sun to buy flour to make their bread. Unlike her mother, Hadassah did not mind the long journey to town. She liked to cross the countryside prettily decorated with bright red tomatoes in the summer, and in the winter months, she had so much fun jumping in the deep snow at the side of the path. Even if she arrived at school, legs soaking wet and shivering, it did not make her worry. She liked to observe how the material of her trousers would grow richer in colour from the knees down. 

She was a very strong girl, never falling sick. She asked herself many questions, and her love of school brought many answers. To her, the schoolhouse was not just a raw mass of cement which imprisoned youth and enthusiasm, but that small, organised, safe space where she could find the answers she so desperately needed as well as the company of others her age. 

Unfortunately, her house lacked all of this joyful feeling. It welcomed only two people, her and her mother. Two women of such a different age — her mother being all of thirty-eight and her a girl of only ten — bound only by the bond of kinship and not one of real understanding. 

Her mother was always very cross and silent. Most of the time Hadassah did not know if she was that way because she did not want to be disturbed, or if she just didn’t know how to give her daughter the answers to the questions which she asked of her.

In the beginning, Hadassah had felt confused by her mother’s silences, and hurt by her seemingly endless scolding of “calm down! What is that silly smile? My God, but do you not know how to dress in a less flashy way, what is all this colour? Enough, you’re always asking questions. Can you never be silent?!”

In time though, she had become accustomed to the only words that seemed able to fall from her mother’s lips. She realised a simple and sad truth; she could not do or be what her mother wanted her to be: her need to know all the answers to the questions in her heart was too fervent to be silenced. How could she get the answers she needed if, each time she asked, her mother told her it was silly to ask so many questions? And she couldn’t bear to wear the subdued clothing that her mother preferred; black, grey, brown or white. Demoralised and darkened, the same drab colours of her mother’s face. 

Besides, in her heart, she didn’t feel that it was at all wrong to choose to live in a world of colour, nor to seek answers wherever she could find them. 

One day, they attended the funeral of a relative. Her mother forced her to dress in mourning, and her other relatives initially did not recognise Hadassah at all, even they seemed to see that, swathed in black from head to foot, her sky-blue eyes and those rosy cheeks which everyone complimented her on, had faded.

Hadassah didn’t like sad things. If she could have somehow avoided them all… oh, how she would have loved to avoid all of those sterile complaints from her mother. But, try as she might, she just couldn’t see how she could ever escape from all the sadness in the world?

“You exhaust me” Her mother had scolded when they returned home. “You’re twelve years old now, and still you don’t change? Have I taught you nothing, eh? All I ask is a better attitude… a bit of modesty! But still, you never listen! I just can’t take it with you anymore! You’re quite the opposite of what I wanted in a daughter!” She had heard most of these words before of course, and each time they hurt her, but this time, when her mother had added that she was the opposite of what she wanted in a daughter, the hurt had been too much for Hadassah to bear. “But mom!” she cried, “This is just who I am! I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I cannot be another me! Forgive me if you can, but this is me!” Hadassah walked away then, tears running down her face. She went outside; escaping to the woodpile that her mother had been preparing ready for the winter, and there she stayed. Hours passed as she remained hidden behind that very high pile of unfortunate pines, cypress trees and firs sacrificed to keep them warm. So much time had passed, but her mother never called her name or came to look for her; perhaps because she knew well that her daughter would never venture too far from their house by herself. Finally, dinner time was nearing. Hadassah felt hungry, but she couldn’t forget her mother’s cruel words. Instead of turning and heading back to the house as she knew she should, she gazed out at the dense forest of conifers in front of her. The branches seemed like little brothers embracing the warmth of the sun, which was very timidly trying to enter between the highest branches which seemed to touch the sky.
Hadassah had been told many times by mother never to enter the woods alone. She did not like to disobey her mother; but then she already seemed to do so anyway with her way of being; a way so different from what her mother wanted. At that moment, her hurt and disappointment were so intense that she forgot her mother’s warning.
She got to her feet and left her woody shelter, walking slowly away towards the forest. She glanced back at the house every now and then watching it get further away, and then back towards the forest, which grew closer and closer with every step. Her feet kept moving and, at last, she found herself standing in a semi-dark tunnel with trees all around her. She turned around, but found that she couldn’t see her house anymore; without noticing, she had walked far deeper into the woods than she had realised. She recalled her mother’s warning, but only for a moment because she found herself immediately distracted by a slight rustling in the branches above.
“Oh Lord, but you’re wonderful!” she said, her voice sounding unusually loud in the silent forest. A small dark squirrel hopped from one branch to another, likely looking for some pine nuts to enjoy. Hadassah froze, staring up at the strange creature. He was like nothing she had ever seen before. While he had the shape and movement of a squirrel, his bright colour was unlike any other squirrel she had ever seen in the woods. This creature’s fur was a vivid mix of pink, blue, green and red: the squirrel was in confusion! Hadassah didn’t know whether to be afraid or whether to just continue to stand and stare in fascination and wonder at the creature before her. The squirrel seemed to be feeling the same way; they both stopped to look at each other for a long moment, before, at last, the squirrel ran away to continue his search for food.
Hadassah was immediately enraptured and fell in love with that vision. She decided that her mother must have been wrong in her fear of the forest.
“There is nothing to be afraid of in this beautiful place!” she told herself, and besides Master Elia had told her, “The Lord poses in every home its suitable tenants. Each home is different from one another, but they are all beautiful because they all come out of the divine hand.”
She was finally beginning to truly understand the meaning in the messages imparted by her teacher, but she didn’t have long to think about that realisation before another noise distracted her from her thoughts. It was a bizarre sound indeed, and it drew Hadassah deeper into the woods as she tried to locate its source. After a while, she found to her dismay that she was trapped in by the thick wooded vegetation which surrounded her and filled her view for as far as she could see!
She stopped walking, trying to see a way forward. Looking up at the sky she realised that she couldn’t see it any more. She couldn’t see even a faint glimmer of the sun penetrating through the leaves. Her heart sank when she realised that night had fallen, knowing that her mother would be even more angry with her now. “Oh, what shall I do?” She thought with despair, “I’m starting to feel tired, and tomorrow I have to go to school. I have to tell my friends about Ariel, the beautiful little squirrel who I met in the woods.” She closed her eyes and begged the Lord that her mother would not scold her when she returned home again. She also prayed for help in finding what strange being was making that unusual sound which she could still hear so clearly.
Suddenly, the sound grew louder, and Hadassah watched as what looked like parallel branches began moving up ahead of her.
“My mind must be playing tricks on me… am I awake, or am I dreaming?” She wondered.
Once again, the memory of her mother’s inevitable reproach slipped from Hadassah’s thoughts, giving way to her irrepressible enthusiasm and her unbridled desire to discover the answers to her questions.
She thought back to the day at school when Master Elia had asked everyone to freely colour the forest animals that the Lord had created, letting their imagination guide them. With surprise, she realised that she recognised those branches that moved alone now; ​​on that day she had coloured them with fuchsia because she decided that hers was a girl. She hadn’t known until the Master had told her that the females did not even have antlers! It didn’t matter to her. Her deer had them. They were a beautiful shade of fuchsia, and her body was pink fuchsia and violet. In reality, the picture may have been of a stag, but what child would know that? No child in her class even knew the actual colour of a deer. They had never seen one in the wild. For all any of her classmates knew at the time deer could have just as easily been all blue, just as her friend Giona had coloured his. Her mind had wandered for too long. She left the memory of that day behind her and let her mind return to that dense forest full of so many noises, each one of which she so badly wanted to give a name to. So far, she had only given two; Ariel, the curious little squirrel, and Indro, the stag – guardian of the woods, both shy and noisy.
“But Indro is being really unpleasant.” She thought, feeling a little put out. “Why does he not show himself completely?” She didn’t understand his fear, she was a good person, so why wouldn’t he have come out to observe and admire her?

It was completely dark now, but curiously Hadassah found that she was not afraid, she wasn’t even hungry anymore. The sun was gone, but soon she noticed a glittering light in the woods up ahead. It seemed that many small lights had come back on, right in front of her eyes. She began to see everything better. Not only that, the lights were moving. They seemed to dance to the rhythm of some silent melody. Master Elia had never told them that the woods could contain such wonders. Tomorrow she decided that she would tell him everything in the hope that he could give an explanation to what she was seeing.

The little dancing lights reassured her and filled her with excitement. She knew that it was now too dark to go back home; she had gone too far, and when she looked back in the direction from which she had come, she saw no path to guide her. She would have to wait for the first light of dawn to light the woods again so that she could find her path home. In the meantime, she prayed again to the Lord that her mother was not too frightened at her disappearance. Hadassah knew that she had completely disappointed her mother by not heeding her words of warning, and instead had left her alone at home, at night, wondering where her daughter was and waiting for her to return. That thought bothered her, but she couldn’t force herself to dwell on it long. Looking at the beauty of the dense forest all around her, she found herself smiling again and couldn’t help but marvel at this beautiful adventure. Who knew, maybe when she returned to school tomorrow, her classmates, instead of mocking her unusual manner, may listen to her for a change, excited at her newfound courage.

“Well Lord, I have to thank you, for you have given me courage enough!” Hadassah said to herself, sitting down between two beautiful big rocks that provided shelter from the light, fresh breeze which was coming down from the sky. She was tired and covered a yawn with her hand. It was strange but wonderful to be alone, in the woods.

“No, no, you are not alone, and you’re right to thank him,” said a little voice from behind her shoulder, making her jump. 

“Who is there? Let me see you… it isn’t nice to scare me so! I know well that the forest does not speak!” 

” And who told you that?” The voice laughed. Hadassah felt the first flicker of fear rise up within her.

“The woods do not speak,” She repeated, trying not to show her fear. She thought for a moment before continuing, “It is true though that this is the first time I have been alone in a wood… so I suppose I could be wrong?” 

“And you’re wrong, yes!” The little voice answered, sounding much closer than before.

Hadassah whirled around, only to find a bright little boy looking back at her. The boy looked like a child of about 13, but he was not like any of the other children Hadassah knew. He seemed much smarter, shone more brightly, and seemed infinitely more special somehow.  

“Now it’s silly to be scared! You are not alone here. Did you not notice? They are all watching you. You are a new tenant here after all. Look… Lia and Miriam are watching you very closely. Ariel’s family follows you from afar, they have not yet been introduced. You have already met Indro: He is very elusive.” The child said, smiling at Hadassah. 

“And they are not afraid of you?” Hadassah asked curiosity, replacing fear.

“My name is Amutiel, and no one here is afraid of me, we are all the same after all… you too, you know?”

By this point, Hadassah was exhausted, and sleep was coming fast. Her eyes struggled to stay open at the brightness of Amutiel; it had been a very long day. She rested her heavy head on one of the large rocks. “Nice to meet you, Amutiel. I am Hadassah and…”, and with that, she fell into a deep sleep.

The first light of dawn gently roused her from a beautiful, restful sleep. She was far from home, but she felt warm, safe, and serene even though she didn’t understand why. She started to get up when she saw that Amutiel had made for her a comfortable bed and blanket. He had kept her warm, peaceful and safe throughout the long night spent in this strange, beautiful place. “Is this…? Yes! At last, she finally understood true love.”

In seconds, the young child vanished from within her skin. She felt suddenly conflicted; on the one hand, she believed that she had finally discovered true love in that bright child, but on the other, she was depressed and anxious because she knew that she would have to go home and to school soon. She was terribly worried about the reaction which her mother would have to her staying outside all night.

In front of her, the light of dawn penetrated faintly through the leaves overhead. It made the undergrowth around her look even more beautiful and magical than it had last night. The wood was already awake and was humming with a nice mix of beautiful melodies. On a branch high above, Hadassah saw Ariel, or perhaps one of her cousins, and in the distance, she felt Indro’s presence in the dark green shadows of the forest where little coloured birds sang different melodies, fluttering amongst the leaves. 

“It’s time to leave now.” She said the words aloud to add weight to them, but still, she loved this place almost too much to leave. Reluctantly she retraced her steps and instinct led her to the direction which would take her back home. Even though there was no visible road or path to guide her, she walked calmly through the underbrush, as if she had a well-defined road ahead of her. With every step, she could hear Amutiel’s voice in her ear, repeating, “Do not be afraid… you’re never alone!”

It seemed like only a few seconds passed before, to her surprise, she found herself emerging from the forest again, right in front of the high woodpile where she had hidden the day before.

She was even more surprised to find her mother there, sitting in the same place which she, herself, had occupied, with her legs crossed and her head between them. She was crying, and Hadassah felt even more frightened than she had upon waking in the woods. She felt her heart leap out of her chest, her stomach after all those hours with no nourishment, had begun to rumble again telling her that she needed to eat soon. Seeing her mother like that made Hadassah’s legs start to tremble, but they did not do so from exhaustion.

“Hadassah, Hadassah please come back…” Her mother wept. “I promise you that I will not hurt you anymore with my words, I love you for who you are; a special divine gift…” Hadassah got down on her knees and hugged her mother tightly. She had expected a stern rebuke and not her sorrow and tears. Her mother returned her tight embrace, and she realised that there wouldn’t be any rebuke at all this time. Hadassah also burst into tears in the arms of her mother “I’m so, so sorry…” she sobbed, and her mother wiped her tears away. 

“I know child, so am I. Now come on inside, I have prepared your favourite dish for dinner and a delicious cake for after that.” 

“But mother… Dinner? I have been away for many hours, surely it isn’t dinner time any longer?” Her mother shook her head, confused at Hadassah’s words, she insisted again that it was dinner time. Hadassah was really hungry now, so she didn’t argue, and they both went back inside the house to eat. 

It was still not dark outside when the meal finally ended. Her hunger sated Hadassah remembered all that she had to say. “Mom, mom, please listen to me, I have so much to tell you, but this time you must listen to me, please. I have to tell you about the love I discovered of a beautiful, magical place and a fantastic person who kept me safe. I met Ariel and Indro… you cannot understand the emotion without having felt it for yourself, though. Please, mom. Let’s go back together into the woods, and I will show it all to you.”

Hadassah’s mother, at last, listened to her for once without crushing her daughter’s enthusiasm; it could be that the fright had marked her deeply enough to perhaps help her grow to be a better person. At Hadassah’s insistence, they went right away, leaving the table with the dinner dishes still spread across it. 

“Mom, you know I think I’ve found love; I found it first in Ariel’s gaze, then I found it in the silences of Lia and Miriam and also in Indro, with all that noise he made to show me my path forwards. I can’t wait to tell all of what I have experienced to Master Elia, what magnificent things will he be able to tell me about it all!? That page in the book of religion was right; you can see divine beauty everywhere if you open the eyes of your heart!… Mom, you know what, you are so beautiful!” 

Hadassah could not keep quiet, but then she had always been like that. She never compromised herself; when enthusiasm and emotion knocked on her door, she was always wide open to them! 

“Mom, I forgot to tell you I also met a very bright boy here in the woods? His name is Amutiel, and I think that now I understand even more what love actually is. I found it! Last night he held me in his arms, warming me from the cold, he whispered reassuring words when I was feeling scared, and his voice guided me through the woods and back home to you. 

Kala looked confused, “but… Hadassah, you haven’t spent the night in the woods at all? You left the house because I mistreated you, but you were gone for three hours, five at the most. I was very worried, I called for you several times, but it was my pride that stopped me from looking for you further. I did not know you would disobey my order not to go into the woods alone… you have never disobeyed me before. I was also feeling very disappointed in myself for saying those terrible words to you. I didn’t mean them… truly I didn’t.” They walked deeper into the woods, Hadassah talking the whole way, her enthusiasm too great to allow her to stay silent. Her mother’s fear had now waned and so Kala listened patiently to her daughter with a serene smile on her face. 

Finally, they reached a place in the forest and saw, in the distance, a tree with a smaller and more delicate trunk than all of the others. It seemed to have a silvery and luminous trunk which set it apart from the rest of the forest. They ventured closer until they were near enough to see every detail. 

“Mom! It’s him! He has the same light, the same gaze that knows of serenity, the face that expresses beauty, pride, candour… it is him, Amutiel!” 

Hadassah could clearly see in the trunk as if in relief, the bearing and the light of Amutiel; it was as if he had imprinted himself upon the surface of the tree without losing any of the essence which made him the magical being who had guarded her through the darkest hours. She felt as if when approaching this small luminous tree, he spoke to her. She was trying to capture the meaning of the message he was giving to her when she finally noticed, at the base of the tree, in amongst its roots, an engraving which simply read “Love.”

Kala called Hadassah back then because it was beginning to get dark. She could see in her mother’s eyes that she too, had felt and witnessed the wonder of that magical tree. On the way back home, Hadassah’s thousand thoughts finally stilled, and she began to understand what her ears had heard as she listened to the tree’s song. 

“Love, because love is the only answer to your many questions. Love is everywhere, it is a divine spark. You discovered it in the shyness of a deer, the curious eyes of a little squirrel, and you also rediscovered it in a special person with a gruff and silent mask. Love! Love because love is enthusiasm for life. You have finally felt love… was this not exactly what you were waiting for.” 

“Thanks, Amutiel!” She whispered as the sun sank behind the horizon.