Winter tales, p.1
Winter Tales, page 1
Copyright © 2020 by Dawn Casey
Interior and cover illustrations copyright © 2020 by Zanna Goldhawk
Design copyright © 2020 by Templar Books
Cover copyright © 2023 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.
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Originally published in 2020 by Templar Books in the United Kingdom.
First U.S. Edition: September 2023
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Library of Congress Control Number: 2022058627
ISBNs: 978-0-7624-8477-5 (hardcover), 978-0-7624-8479-9 (ebook)
E3-20230902-JV-NF-ORI
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
A Note from the Author
The White Bear King
Tanuki’s Gold
The Mitten
A Cloak for the Moon
The Nutcracker
The Poinsettia
Wee Robin Red Breast
The Little Black Cat
The Snow Maiden
The Silver Pine cones
The Apple Tree Man
Sister and Brother
The Mother of the Sea
The Snow Queen
Rabbit’s Gift
The Children and the Sun
The Twelve Months
Brigit and the Cailleach
Sources
To my beloved dad, who answered the call “Daddy, tell us a story!”
Those magical stories, told without a book, lit my imagination and fueled my deep love of traditional tales. – D.C.
To my parents, who read me countless, fairy tales and sparked a lifelong passion for reading, drawing, and storytelling. – Z.G.
A Note from the Author
Winter has always been a time for storytelling, when the evenings are long and dark, and the fireside calls. After the activity of summer and autumn, winter offers us a time to stop and rest, to draw inward, to dream and imagine…
Every year, when winter comes around again, familiar traditions are greeted like dear old friends. In Winter Tales, I include familiar stories alongside lesser-known offerings, an abundance of old favorites, and new discoveries. All of these stories, in their own different ways, celebrate the pleasures and treasures of the winter season, and the qualities within us that warm our hearts through the long cold. There are bears and bunnies, grandmothers and goddesses. There are brothers and sisters,frosts and fires and ice. I offer warm and gentle tales for young listeners and epic adventures for older readers—a book to enjoy with the whole family.
The stories I share in these pages are very old. They connect us back through the generations to a time before our view of the world was so human-centric. A time when heroines and heroes could hear the language of the animals, the voices of the wind, and the wisdom whispered by the spirits of trees. They remind us that the natural world is a community of life, and that every day, miracles are happening. They offer their ancient wisdom to help us learn to live well, as we all make a more beautiful future.
So, snuggle up by the fire, and enjoy. May these tales brighten your midwinter with magic, wonder, wisdom, and delight.
Dawn Casey
THE WHITE BEAR KING
A folktale from Norway
This tale of the polar bear and the ice mountain comes from the Kingdom of Norway,a land of jagged coastline, high plateaus, and deep forested valleys. Glaciers, ice caps, and mountaintops stay frozen all year round. Highest of all the walls of stone and snow is Trollveggen—the tallest vertical rock face in Europe.
Once there was a girl who dreamed of a crown. A crown forged of flame-bright metal, crafted in tendrils and leaves of all the trees of the forest; golden oak, silver birch, and copper beech. In her dream, when she wore the crown on her head, she felt she was standing in the center of her world, blessing the land like a queen.
When the girl woke, all she wanted was to wear that crown again.
Her father, the king, had goldsmiths make crowns of every kind, but not one of them matched the crown in her dream. The princess took to wandering alone in the forest. One day, she went farther than she had ever been before. She came to a glade, where slanting rays of sun lit the silver birch and the green pine, and made the snow sparkle. There, warming its fur, was a bear. A great white bear!
The princess was not alarmed. She watched the way the bear moved—his strength and power, his ease and grace. She smiled as she watched him playing; rolling and wriggling, nosing the sunlit snow. He had something in his paws, what was it?
The crown of her dreams! “Oh!” said the princess. “I need that crown.”
But the bear answered, “The crown is not for sale, not for money nor gold.”
“Please,” the princess cried. “I need it!”
“I will give you the crown,” said the bear, “in return for your company. Will you come to the forest with me and agree to be my wife?”
The princess looked beyond the limits of her father’s lands, to the dark forest stretching far away, wild and unknown. She looked into the bear’s deep brown eyes and saw gentleness there.
“Yes,” she said. “I will.”
“Then in three days’ time, I will return,” said the bear.
When the king heard of this agreement, he summoned his bravest guards. When the bear returned for the princess, he was met with a rain of arrows from the king’s army. But the bear batted them away like flies.
The king saw that his army was no use; the promise must be kept. It was the tradition in those times for the eldest daughter to marry first. So, the king sent his eldest daughter to the bear. Grimacing, she clambered onto the bear’s back and he began to run. “Have you ever sat softer?” asked the bear. “Have you ever seen so clear?”
“Yes!” said the first sister. “In my mother’s chamber I sit softer. In my father’s palace I see more clearly.”
“Then you are not the one,” said the bear, and he shook her down.
Three days later, the bear came again. The king sent out his second daughter.She clung onto the bear’s back. “Have you ever sat softer? Have you ever seen so clear?”
“Yes!” said the second sister. “In my mother’s chamber I sit softer, and in my father’s palace I see more clearly.”
“Then you are not the one.” He shook her loose.
For the third time, the bear returned. With a beating heart, the youngest daughter put the crown on her head. It shone flame-bright as she climbed onto the bear’s back. He bounded deep into the forest. “Have you ever sat softer?” he asked.
The princess held on to the bear. She felt the powerful muscles moving beneath her. She sunk her fingers into the thick fur. “No! I have never sat so soft.”
“And have you ever seen so clear?” Beneath the blazing crown, the girl’s hair was full of wind. Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes shone. She could see the whole forest laid out before her. “No, I have never seen so clear!”
“Yes, you are the one,” the bear said.
They leapt through icy rivers, splashing sparkles, the princess laughing with delight. They slid down slopes and rolled in the snow. They climbed the hills, and sat side-by-side in the sunset. They slept, curled together, in mossy hollows. In the mornings, they greeted each other nose-to-nose. Until at last they came to the home of the white bear.
Rising from the black branches was a palace of white, its turrets shining in the winter sky. Inside, the rooms were bright with silver and gold, and soft with silken pillows. The bear went out, and the princess kept the fire lit.
When it was night, the bear returned. But, in the darkness, when the princess reached out to touch his fur, she touched not paws, but fingertips. By night her bear-husband was a human man, though she never saw his face.
Within the year, the princess and the bear had a child. But no sooner was it born than the bear king took it away, and the princess did not see her child again. This happened three times. The princess begged her husband to explain, but he just shook his head. “I cannot. I’m so sorry.”
The princess was heartbroken. “All day long I am alone. I long for family.”
“Very well,” said the bear. “We will visit your parents.”
&n bsp; When her mother heard the princess’s tale, she cried, “A bear that changes at night is not a real bear. There’s magic at work. Perhaps he’s a troll! Take this candle. When he is asleep, light it and see his true face.”
That night, the princess lit the candle. Beside her lay not a troll, but a prince. She leaned to kiss his brow, and three hot drops of wax fell onto his skin, and he woke. “What have you done?” he cried. “If you had loved me, just as I am, the troll hag’s spell would have broken. But now her magic tightens and I must become her husband.”
He pulled on his bearskin and sped away. The princess grabbed his fur, trying to haul herself onto his back, but the bear was so fast all she could do was hold on. Through the forest, she held on, though thorns tore her clothes and scratched her skin. But at a bend in the path, he swerved, and she was thrown onto the ground. The bear was gone.
The princess walked and walked through the forest until she came to a cottage,and she knocked at the door. Inside was an old woman and a young girl. “Have you seen a white bear?” the princess asked.
“Yes,” said the woman. “He sped by here a day ago, but he was going so fast you won’t catch him. Come in and rest.” The princess rested her weary feet by the fire, and smiled at the child. The child came closer, hugging a cat to her chest. She looked at the princess, with shy eyes. “Hello little cat…” said the princess, and she began to talk to the child. They shared stories of animals they’d seen in the forest and birds they’d heard in the hedgerows.
The little girl took out a pair of silver scissors. She began to play with them, snipping the air. With every snip, reams of cloth rippled from the blades; green silk, red velvet, white wool. The girl looked at the princess’s torn clothes, and she asked the old woman, “May I give her a gift?”
So the princess left the cottage with the silver scissors.
The princess walked through the forest until she came to a second cottage. Inside was an old woman and a young girl. “Have you seen a white bear?” the princess asked.
“Yes,” said the woman. “He sped by a day ago, but he was going so fast you won’t catch him.” The child bounded up to the princess. “Look what I can do!” She turned a wobbly cartwheel. The princess clapped her hands, delighted.
The child took out a golden cup. She began to play with it, tilting it in the air. As it tipped, it filled with a drink; hot sweet blackcurrant. The girl looked at the princess, and asked the woman, “May I give her a gift?”
So the princess left the cottage with the golden cup.
The princess walked on through the forest until she came to a third cottage. Inside was an old woman and a young girl. “Have you seen a white bear?” the princess asked.
“Yes“ said the old woman. “He sped by here this morning, but he was going so fast you won’t catch him. Come in and rest a moment.” The girl showed the princess the treasures she had found in the forest; a white feather, a yellow leaf, an acorn cup. The princess looked at every one. She thanked the girl for showing them to her.
Then the child took out a snow-white cloth. She flicked it through the air and when it landed, it was covered with good things to eat. The girl said to the old woman. “She looks hungry; may I give her a gift?”
So the princess went on, the scissors and the cup wrapped in the cloth.
She walked and she walked until she came to the edge of the forest, and before her now rose a wall of rock, glazed in ice. She reached out a finger to touch it, then drew it back in pain. The sharp cold stung her skin. The rock was smooth as polished glass. The princess craned her neck, but she couldn’t see the top. “It’s impossible!” she sighed.
At the foot of the mountain was a fourth cottage. The princess knocked. A woman answered. She was dressed in rags and hungry children pulled at her apron. “Come in,” said the woman. “Though I have nothing to offer you but stones. I’m warming them in the kettle—I tell the children there are apples cooking and it quiets them for a while.”
With a snip of the scissors, a tip of the cup, and a flick of the cloth, the family were soon clothed and well-fed. “Thank you for your kindness,” said the woman. “In return, I will help you. My husband is a master smith. He will make you a set of iron claws to climb the ice mountain.”
The next day, the princess stood at the foot of the mountain. She put on her claws. I wonder, as she flexed each finger into its iron tip, did she feel the deep growl low in her throat? Did she feel the fierce protective power of being a bear?
Step after step, paw after paw, she climbed the unclimbable mountain.
At the very top of the mountain stood a castle. And at the window stood the troll hag. She was built like a boulder and had a granite scowl.
The princess sat beneath the window and began to play with the silver scissors. Sumptuous fabric slipped from the blades—purple silks and golden velvets. “Give me those!” shouted the troll hag. The wedding was in three days’ time, and what a wedding gown those scissors would make!
“The scissors are not for sale,” said the princess, “not for money nor gold. But I will give them to you in return for one night with the prince.”
The troll hag agreed, for she had drugged the prince with a sleeping potion, and no matter how hard the princess shook him, he did not wake up.
The next day, the princess took out the cup. From its lip flowed pale ale and fine wine. “Give me that!” shouted the troll hag.
“The cup is not for sale,” said the princess, “not for money nor gold. But I will give it to you in return for one more night with the prince.”
The troll hag agreed, for again, the prince was drugged, and no matter how loud the princess shouted, he did not wake up.
But next door, the carpenter, making the feasting table for the wedding, heard the noise. And he told the prince.
On the third morning, the princess shook out the soft snow-white cloth. Upon it lay a feast fit for a wedding. “Give me that!” cried the troll hag again.
“The cloth is not for sale, not for money nor gold. But I will give it to you in return for one final night with the prince,” replied the princess.
On the third night, when the prince drained the drink the troll hag had given him, he held the syrupy liquid in his mouth until she left the room. Then he spat it out.
As night darkened, the troll hag sat listening. Was that a noise in the prince's room? She took out a long needle and pierced it deep into the prince’s arm. But the prince did not flinch. “Humph!” The troll hag slammed the door behind her. The princess, hiding in the shadows, opened the door and the lovers were reunited at last. Together, they made a plan.
In the black of night, the prince woke the carpenter. They crept down to the bridge in front of the castle. One by one, they unscrewed the bolts and broke the planks. The next morning, the day of the wedding, the troll hag came stomping over the bridge, leading her bridesmaids behind her. Crack! The bridge broke. With a shriek the troll hag fell. She sunk like a stone in the deep water of the moat and was never seen again.
The prince and the princess returned home together and, on the way, the prince stopped at the three cottages the princess had visited and collected the three little girls—their very own children. At last the princess understood; the prince had taken the children into the forest to keep them safe from the troll hag. Little did he know the part the children would play in helping their mother to break the spell.
At long last, their wedding was celebrated, with feasting and dancing, music and merrymaking. The three daughters sang loudest of all. They both lived long and happy lives, reigning together side by side; the White Bear King and the Flame Bright Queen.
TANUKI’S GOLD
A folktale from Japan
The “tanuki” is a member of the dog family that lives wild in the forests of Japan. Like its cousin the fox, the tanuki is small and agile, with a pointed snout and short legs, but its silky fur is striped, like a badger or a racoon. The tanuki is famed in legends of old Japan as a magical creature—one favorite tale tells of a shape-shifting tanuki who could change into a kettle and perform amazing acrobatics, bringing great good luck. This tale celebrates the way that when winter weather keeps us indoors, we feel especially grateful for the company of dear friends.
