By Michal Reiben

Once upon a time, in a faraway land there lived a happy family of fairies–Acorn, Lilac, and their daughter Primrose. Tragically, Lilac was devoured by a dragon which caused her light to go out. 

Acorn, not wishing to remain alone, remarried a beautiful, bewitching fairy named Thistle. Unbeknown to him she was a wicked witch in disguise. 

Thistle was extremely jealous of Primrose. 

“Primrose is so contrary and spoilt. Besides, we won’t have enough money to support her when I give birth to our baby. You must banish her,” she’d complain incessantly.

Acorn loved Primrose but he also wished to keep his beautiful wife content. Eventually, he relented to her wishes and took Primrose to a wooden hut situated at the edge of an enchanted forest. 

“Primrose from now on you’ll have to live in this hut. I’ll come to visit you from time to time. The enchanted forest and creatures of the forests have promised me they will take care of you,” said Acorn before he left. 

Indeed Primrose’s days passed happily. The enchanted forest was a place of serenity, it beckoned her in. She’d twirl around up to the leafy green and gold bower flying with birds who sang fluty, piping songs. She’d flutter among the butterflies, pirouetted with them through the air. She’d caress the sweet-smelling, silky petals of wildflowers rising from the forest floor. Every day the little creatures of the forest came to visit Primrose to keep her company and in the evenings she’d write stories about her charmed life.

On one of Acorn’s visits, Thistle secretly followed him. Upon witnessing that Primrose was perfectly happy, Thistle became enraged and so she devised an evil plan. As soon as Acorn departed Thistle turned herself into an adorable rabbit and hopped up to Primrose. 

“Oh, you darling little bunny,” said Primrose as she bent over to stroke it. 

Suddenly sparks of light flashed from off the rabbit and to Primrose’s amazement instead of a rabbit a witch stood before her. The witch had long, black stringy hair, rotten, black teeth, little sly eyes, a long raven nose, and her skin was covered with warts. She waved her magic wand at Primrose and cast an evil spell. 

“From now on you shall live in misery,” she screeched, then she zoomed away on her battered broomstick and her cackling laughter echoed through the forest.

At the edge of the forest stood Primrose’s dear friend the Oaktree. He was a mighty feat of nature who lifted his gigantic branches to the sky and whose branches were covered with lobe leaves of many green hues which whispered in the wind. 

Primrose sat down on one of the Oaktree’s projecting lumpy roots and wept. 

“Why did that witch put a curse on me?” she asked in-between gasping wails.

“That witch is your stepmother without her disguise. she’s eaten up with jealousy of you,” answered the Oaktree.

“Why is she jealous of me?” 

“You’re younger and prettier than she is and you write stories,” replied the Oaktree.

“Why can’t she conjure up her own stories with one of her spells?” asked Primrose.

“She’s wicked and her spells can only be used to cause harm,” explained the Oaktree.

“People see her as a pleasant person, they don’t know she’s a witch in disguise,” said Primrose, and she settled down to a gulping sob.

“I wish I could help you,” said the Oaktree. 

 A wise owl who was sitting in a hole in the tree and had been listening to their conversation advised Primrose,  

“Primrose you should ask the wind for his help. He has powerful spells.” 

“Thank you for your advice, wise owl.”  

Primrose wiped her tear-stained, eyes and face with her hands and called up to the wind shaking the leaves in the Oaktree’s branches. 

“Magical wind do you have a spell which might help me?”

“I can’t change your stepmother into a toad,” joked the Wind, “But I will help you, little fairy,” replied the wind in a rustling voice.

The next day Thistle turned up at Primrose’s wooden hut to gloat at her misery. She gleefully watched on as poor Primrose who was sitting outside on a weather-worn wooden bench sobbed into her hands and shaking with grief. 

All of a sudden a powerful wind encircled around Thistle picked her up like a doll and swept her away. She screamed as she was whirled away through the air. Soon, she disappeared into the endless blue sky and Primrose was delighted as she felt her stepmother’s curse vanish into thin air.

“Magical wind will she come back again?” asked Primrose.

“No, little fairy, I have sent her to a world under the ground from whence she’ll never be able to return to harm you,” answered the wind.

“Thank you so much for your help and for being such a good friend,” said Primrose. 

Tears of gratitude glistened in her eyes.

Now that Acorn’s wife Thistle had been sent to a world underground, Primrose was able to return home to live with her father Acorn, and her half-sister Snowdrop. Every evening at bedtime she’d read one of the tales she’d written about the enchanted forest and the animals who lived there to Snowdrop. Her stories were so vivid they delighted her little sister. At long last Primrose was once again part of a loving family.  

From time to time she’d go back to visit the hut at the edge of the enchanted forest. She loved to spend time with her friend the Oaktree, the other trees of the forest, the sweet singing birds, the butterflies and the creatures of the forest, and of course also her dear friend the magical wind.  

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