~*~Faery Godmother and the Runes~*~
As dusk settled on the Little Woods a wonderful thing
happened. The Wee One’s Faery Godmother appeared to tell the fae
about a Rune she had found. As these visits were very rare the little
faery was just as excited as she could be.
“Sit beside me on this mushroom. You have found
a very interesting Rune my pet.” Faery Godmother said, in her gentle way.
"This Rune has two triangles with their points touching and is very interesting."
The Wee One looked at the Rune again and then sat quietly and listened as the tale was told.
"In a time before you were born and I was but a child,
people lived on these lands. They were a people who called themselves
Viking or the Norse. They are the people that made these Runes.
They chiseled many marks into the stones you have found. These marks
are an alphabetic script. Each of the letters they believed possessed
a special name and sound. They used these Runes for poetry, for inscriptions
and divination but they never evolved as a spoken language. The Norse
saw these Runes as Oracles."
As Faery Godmother told her tale the Wee One looked
at the stones more carefully. The fae ran her tiny fingers in the
Faery Godmother explained. “This Rune with two triangles and the points touching each other, is called a Dagaz. It’s a very positive Rune indeed. It belongs to the cycle of self-transformation. The Norse would draw these marks in the stones to change themselves. This one is to make the person completely transform themselves.”
The Wee One wrinkled her nose and said. “Stones
can’t make you transform yourself, only you can do that for yourself.”
“You are becoming wise Wee One.” Faery Godmother said as she smiled at the tiny fae. “It’s very true, but they believed it could. Like most magic it allows us to believe that we can overcome fear and self-doubt.” She continued: “No one is dependent on the Oracle to solve their problems for them. The magic is within each of us.”
Faery Godmother smiled at her charge and continued.
“The Viking Runes are like our magic.”
“You mean that faeries are not seen with the eyes but with the heart.” The Wee One whispered. “Our magic is already in their hearts.”
“That’s it Wee One,” Faery Godmother replied as a warm smile came over her face. “We only help them to see the wonder that is already there. They must learn to listen to their still small voice.”
“That’s why it’s always so easy for children to see us?” the fae asked.
Around Faery Godmother and The Wee One, many animals
began to gather. The tiny fae snuggled a baby rabbit and gently stroked
its fur. Robins, bluejays and sparrows sat silently on the branches
above their heads, as if to understand the gentle words of the older Fae.
Faery Godmother seemed pleased with the answers the Wee One gave and began to stir as if to leave. “Are you going now?” The tiny fae asked rather sadly.
“Goodness no child!” the old fae said with a sparkle in her voice. “I just think it is time for you to make me some tea with honey. Come wee fae, give us your hand and show the way.”
“I would be honored Faery Godmother,” The Wee
One replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
In the twilight two figures could be seen walking along
the path and over the little bridge to the Wee One’s cottage. Overhead
the fireflies lit their way, while the creatures of the little woods gambled
and played at their feet. The only sound to be heard was the giggling
of one very happy little faery.
All the material on this page is Copyright 2000 Idris O'Neill