Author's Note: This is a fairy tale I wrote somewhere around two years ago, but only unearthed recently. I can't remember why I wrote this or what exactly the inspiration was, but I think it had something to do with a book I was reading at that time, The Third Culture Kid Experience. This tale is very allegorical, so bear with me. You might say this is the story of my life.... Or maybe I'm just being melodramatic.
Once upon a time, there was a little girl. She had no home, and wandered about in nothing but a shred of what used to be a dress and her own bare feet. In her heart, she longed deeply for a warm home, with a toasty fire and a warm bed to sleep in at night. But one cannot get things merely by longing for them.
One particularly stormy night in the middle of the winter, when the wind howled and the rain fell in torrents, this girl was struggling on as best she could. She was all atremble from the cold and the frightening nature of the storm, and the rain had soaked all the way through her rags. She at last came upon a large town with many large houses. Their shutters were bolted tightly shut, but she could see through the cracks the cheery lights within, and the longing leapt in her heart. At last she could stand it no more, and knocked at the gate of a rich man who gave large sums of money to the charities. Surely, the little girl thought, such a great man would at least give her a morsel to eat.
But the wind howled so loudly that her knocks could not be heard. She pounded the gate louder and louder, yelling until she was hoarse. At last the rich man threw open an upper window and yelled, "What is all this ruckus so late at night? And on such a night as this...."
"If you please, sir," the girl called up to him, "I am a poor, hungry girl who has no home. Would you be so kind as to let me come in out of the rain?"
"What do I look like, your fairy godmother? Get you gone from here, before I call my dogs on you!"
So the little, homeless girl was forced to leave and seek lodging elsewhere. Well, thought she, where do ordinary people go when they wish to get in out of the rain? Why, an inn, of course! And she hurried off to the inn.
Music, laughter, and the stamping of feet could be heard even out on the street, and oh! how the little girl wished to join them! Again she began to knock as loudly as she could on the gate, and called out to the innkeeper. At last he showed his face out of a window, and yelled, "What's all this on such a stormy night?"
"If you please, sir," the little girl called up to him, "I am a poor, hungry girl who has no home. Would you be so kind as to let me come in out of the rain?"
"Get out of here, filthy little brat! I have my ale and wenches waiting for me. Get lost!"
Again, the girl was forced to move on. She came presently to a cozy little house nearly hidden among the multitude of mansions. She had no hopes of finding shelter here, for she had been turned away from the two places she had thought most likely to help her. Nevertheless, she liked the looks of this little house and soon found herself approaching the door.
No harm will come by merely knocking, she said to herself. And she had barely touched her knuckles to the wood when it was flung wide open. A man stood in the doorway, the light and warmth from the room within spilling outside. This man had a kindly face and smiled gently down at her. "What is all this ruckus on such a stormy night?" he asked, but in a very different sort of voice from the rich man and the innkeeper.
"If you please, sir," the girl repeated for the third time, encouraged by this kind man's voice, "I am a poor, hungry girl who has no home. Would you be so kind as to let me come in out of the rain?"
"My daughter," the kind man laughed, "what do you mean when you say that you have no home? This has always been your home. Now, come inside and see all that I have been preparing for your arrival."
The little girl smiled, took the man's offered hand, and followed him into that little house. None can say what precisely she found when the door closed behind her, for none have ever seen that little wandering girl again. But I have no doubt that she lived happily ever after.