Hello dear friend,
It's Joanne,
Welcoming you back to Drift Off Bedtime Stories.
I'm so glad you're here.
Wherever you are right now.
Under soft blankets,
In a favorite chair,
Or simply lying still.
Let this be your moment to let the day go.
Tonight we're stepping into an old enchanted tale by George MacDonald called Little Daylight.
This will be part one of a two-part journey into her world.
It's a story of a princess under a strange enchantment.
One that ties her closely to the moon and to sleep itself.
There's a quiet forest,
A gentle prince,
And a spell only patience and kindness can It's a soft dreamlike story,
The kind that seems to slow down time the further you go in.
But before we begin,
Let's take a moment to arrive here fully.
Take a slow breath in.
And let it go.
Feel the weight of your body sinking a little deeper.
Into the back.
Into the chair.
Into this moment There's nowhere else you need to be right now.
Nothing left to finish tonight.
With each breath.
Let your shoulders soften.
Let your mind grow quiet.
Like the last light fading gently from the sky.
So close your eyes now.
Relax.
Let go.
And when you're ready.
Let's begin.
No house that calls itself a palace is truly worthy of the name unless it has a wood near it.
Very near it.
In fact,
The nearer the better.
Not surrounding it entirely,
Mind you.
For a palace should stand open to the sun and wind,
Tall and proud,
Its flags dancing against the sky.
But somewhere close,
Beside every proper palace,
There ought to be a wood.
There was a very grand wood indeed,
Beside the palace of the king who was soon to become Daylight's father.
So grand that no one had ever found the other end of it.
Near the palace.
The wood was kept neat and open.
But the further in you went.
A wild Eric grew.
Until sunset.
Gentle woodland creatures wandered freely there,
Far from anyone at all.
The king and his court often walked and rode through it though,
So it always felt safe and close to home.
One glorious summer morning,
When the wind and sun seemed to be playing together,
When the flags fluttered brightly against the blue sky,
Little daylight came into the world.
A beautiful baby,
With eyes so bright,
She might have been born of sunlight itself,
Though her lively little ways soon made everyone think she might have come from the wind instead.
There was great joy in the palace,
For this was the Queen's very first baby.
And there is just as much happiness over a new little one in a palace as there is in the smallest cottage.
Now,
There is one small thing about living so near a wood.
You never quite know all your neighbors.
Everyone knew they were kindly fairies living not far off.
Fairies who took a gentle interest in each new baby born nearby.
For fairies live so very long that they come to know many generations of people.
Their little homes were well known too.
One lived in a hollow oak.
Another in a birch tree.
Though nobody could quite work out how she made a house of it.
And another cozy hut of branches,
Patched with moss and turf.
But there was one other fairy who had come to live nearby more recently.
And only the other fairies knew what she truly was.
She was an old,
Unhappy sort of fairy.
Who kept her powers well hidden.
And went out of her way to seem disagreeable.
Hoping people might upset her.
So she'd have an excuse to feel wrong.
The folk nearby simply thought her an odd old woman.
And we're careful to be polite around her.
She lived in a little house at the edge of a marshy part of the forest.
In all the old stories.
We find that fairies love to give their special gifts to a new prince or princess at their christening.
This isn't so strange,
Really.
Since it's an old custom among people too.
Though it is a little harder to understand why an unhappy fairy would choose that same happy moment to do something unkind.
And yet.
.
.
I have never once heard of a fairy's mischief that didn't turn out in the end to bring something good.
Think how lovely it was,
For instance,
That one princess got to sleep peacefully for a hundred years.
Spared all the fuss of suitors who weren't right for her.
And won't get exactly the right moment.
When exactly the right prints came along.
I rather think a good many young ladies could do with the very same kind of rest.
Of course,
All the known fairies were invited to Little Daylight's christening.
But nobody thought to invite the fairy who lived in the marsh.
For good fairies come by their gifts naturally.
While this fairy's power had grown from unhappiness,
And no one quite realized what she was.
The other fairies.
Knowing there might be trouble from her direction.
Quietly prepared as best they could.
Though they had no way of knowing beforehand exactly what she might do.
Naturally.
The old fairy came anyway,
Uninvited,
Which suited her perfectly.
For now,
She had a reason in her own mind to do just as she pleased.
Five fairies had already stepped forward,
One after another,
Offering the baby their kindest gifts.
The fifth had just returned to her place among the gathered guests when the marsh fairy shuffled forward into the middle of the circle and just as the archbishop was handing the baby to the head of the royal nursery.
She spoke up,
Drawing out every word slowly.
Please,
Your Grace,
I'm rather deaf.
Would you mind telling me the little princess's name again?
Gladly,
Good woman,
Said the archbishop.
Leaning down to speak clearly.
Her name is Little Daylight.
Then little daylight it shall be,
Said the old fairy.
And little good may her other gifts do her.
For I shall give her this.
She shall sleep all day long,
Whether she wishes it or not.
Then forward step the 6th fairy.
For the others had wisely arranged that a kind fairy would always follow right after this one,
To soften whatever she said.
If she must sleep all day,
Said the sixth very gently.
Then she shall wake fully every night.
A curious blessing for her mother and me,
Thought the king to himself.
For he and the queen loved their daughter too dearly to leave her to nursemaids alone,
Even at night,
As so many royal parents did in those days.
You spoke before I finished,
Said the old fairy sharply.
That's against the rules.
It means I get another turn.
We do beg your pardon,
Said the other fairies together.
She did interrupt.
I hadn't finished,
The old fairy insisted.
So here is more.
If she wakes every night.
Then she shall rise and fade along with the moon,
Just as the tides do.
And what that may come to mean,
I hope her parents live long enough to find out.
But then out stepped another fairy.
For the wise ones had kept two in reserve.
Knowing there might be more than one round of mischief.
"'Until,
' said the seventh very softly,
"'a prince comes who kisses her without knowing who she is.
'" The old fairy made an unhappy little sound and shuffled off at once,
For she could not claim to be interrupted this time.
She had said all she meant to say.
I don't quite understand what that means,
" the king said quietly to the seventh fairy.
Don't worry,
She said kindly.
The meaning will come in its own time along with the thing itself.
The gathering broke up rather solemnly after that.
The queen already thinking of the sleepless nights ahead.
And the head nurse wondering how she alone would manage.
The king for his part.
Resolved to meet whatever came with as much courage as he could gather,
Though he did wonder just a little.
Whether his ministers might be persuaded to share in the long nights ahead.
I won't try to describe everything the household went through in the time that followed.
But eventually.
They settled into a new sort of rhythm.
An unusual one,
But a rhythm all the same.
For on certain nights,
The palace rang with little daylight's laughter,
Since the old fairy's spell could never touch her joyful heart,
Only the timing of it.
She was still daylight through and through.
Only a little out of place.
Drifting off to sleep the moment dawn's first light appeared.
But her merriment never lasted long.
When the moon was full,
She was radiant and joyful,
As lovely as any child could be.
But as the moon slowly waned,
So did she,
Growing quieter and gentler each night,
Until,
By the time the moon was nearly gone,
She lay still and peaceful in her cradle.
Resting so deeply and so quietly that at first your family feared the worst.
In time though.
They grew used to her gentle rhythm.
And simply watch the almanac to know when she would begin to stir again.
Always with the first silver silver of the new moon.
Then her lips would move,
They would offer her a little nourishment,
And day by day she would grow brighter and stronger.
Until for a few glorious nights she was entirely herself again.
Merriest of all beneath the moonlight.
Even in her quietest days,
She seemed most at peace when her cradle was carried out beneath the waning moon,
Where,
In her sleep,
The faintest,
Softest smile would cross her face.
For a very long while.
Very few people ever saw her fully awake.
But as she grew older.
.
.
She became such a beloved little presence.
That people around the palace would quietly stay up at night just for the chance to be near her.
In time,
Though,
She began slipping away from her nurses to enjoy the moonlight on her own.
And so things went on,
Gently and strangely,
Until she was nearly 17.
By then,
Her parents had grown so used to her unusual way of living.
That they hardly thought to wonder at it anymore.
Everything in the palace simply moved around the princess daylight's rhythms.
And it's remarkable how life finds a way to settle around even the most unusual things.
But how any prince might ever find her,
Let alone free her from the spell,
Seemed almost impossible to imagine.
As she grew,
She became more and more beautiful.
Sunlit hair and eyes as blue and deep as a June sky.
But just as her beauty grew under the full moon.
So did her quiet fading grow,
More noticeable as the moon waned.
By the time this story takes place,
When the moon was small or dark,
She looked for a time like someone many years older,
Weary from a long illness.
It was strange indeed,
For her hair and her eyes never changed at all.
Only the rest of her.
Drawn and tired looking.
Her hands moving gently as though searching for something just out of reach.
Her shoulders bowed as though carrying an unseen weight.
Eventually,
During these times,
She would need to rest in bed and simply wait for her strength to return with the coming moon,
And she grew to prefer being left quite alone and unseen during these gentle,
Difficult nights.
One lovely summer evening,
As the moon lay low and nearly gone on the horizon,
She slipped away from her attendants altogether.
And after a long worried search,
They finally found her fast asleep at the foot of a silver birch tree and carried her gently home.
Not far from the palace lay a wide open glade covered in soft green grass,
Her favorite place in all the world.
Here,
The full moon shone freely,
And through a gap in the trees,
She could often glimpse the waning moon as it crossed the sky.
A small,
Simple cottage had been built for her here,
And this was where she mostly stayed.
No one was allowed to visit without her leave,
And her attendants had learned in time not to hover too closely,
So she came to enjoy a great deal of freedom.
Whether the good fairies quietly helped guide her steps or not,
I cannot say.
But she began wandering a little further into the wood each night as the moon waned.
So that sometimes her attendants had quite a time finding her,
Though since she disliked being watched too closely,
They were careful not to intrude.
One night,
They feared they lost her altogether.
And it wasn't until morning that they found her.
Tired and fast asleep.
A long way from the glade.
Around this same time in a neighboring kingdom.
Trouble had broken out following the old king's death.
And many of the nobility were forced to flee for their lives.
Among them was a young prince.
Who disguised himself as a simple traveler.
And set off with nothing much more than the clothes on his back.
For some days as he made his way out of his own country.
He grew hungry and tired.
But once he crossed into the kingdom ruled by our princess's father,
And no longer feared being recognized,
He found the people kind and welcoming.
Still,
He kept up his disguise,
Partly because he had no other clothes to wear.
And partly because he had very little money and no notion of how to get more.
Their same little point in announcing he was a prince to everyone he met.
He felt that a prince ought to be able to make his own way in the world,
Or else his title meant nothing at all.
He had read stories of princes setting out on grand adventures,
And here he was,
Living on himself quite by accident.
So.
.
.
He simply carried on.
Curious to see what might come of it.
For a day or two,
He had been walking through the palace wood.
With hardly anything to eat,
When he came upon the strangest little house,
Home to a kind,
Tidy,
Motherly old woman.
This of course was one of the good fairies.
The moment she saw him,
She knew exactly who he was and what lay ahead for him,
Though she wasn't free to interfere with how things were meant to unfold.
She welcomed him warmly,
As she would any traveler.
And gave him bread and warm milk,
Which he thought the most wonderful meal he had ever tasted.
Wondering why such simple food was never served at the palace.
She invited him to stay the night.
And when he woke,
He felt remarkably rested and strong.
She wouldn't accept any of the coins he offered.
Only asking that if he found himself in the area again.
He return and stay with her once more.
Thank you,
Kindly good mother,
Said the prince.
Though I doubt I'll have the chance.
I'm mean to find my way out of this wood as soon as I can.
We'll see about that,
" said the fairy.
What do you mean?
Asked the prince.
Oh,
How would I know that,
She said.
I couldn't say,
He answered.
Just so,
Said the fairy.
You do talk strangely,
Said the prince.
Do I?
" said she.
You do,
He said.
Just so,
She said again.
The prince wasn't used to being spoken to quite this way.
And felt a touch of frustration.
So he turned and walked on.
This didn't trouble the fairy in the least.
She simply stood at her door,
Watching him until the trees hid him from sight.
And then sit softly to yourself.
At last.
Before going back inside.
The prince walked on and on,
But seemed to get no closer to the edge of the wood.
The sun sank low and vanished,
And still the tree stretched on ahead of him.
He sat down on a fallen log.
Ate a little of the bread the old woman had given him.
And waited for the moon to rise,
Since,
Though he wasn't much of a stargazer,
He knew it would appear again,
Just as it had the night before.
Up they came at last.
Round and glowing and feeling refreshed by his small meal.
He rose and walked on.
Not quite sure where he was headed.
After walking some distance further.
He thought he must be nearing the edge of the forest.
But when he reached what he believed to be its border,
He found himself instead at the edge of a wide grassy clearing.
The moon shone beautifully over it,
And he thought he had never seen a lovelier spot.
Though it felt a little lonely,
Since he couldn't see any house on the far side.
Tired.
He sat down to rest.
And gaze down across the open space.
He hadn't seen this much open sky in days.
Then.
He noticed something moving in the middle of the grass.
A figure.
Coming closer.
Could it be a person?
A girl,
Dressed all in white.
Glowing softly in the moonlight.
She came nearer and nearer.
And he stepped quietly behind a tree to watch,
Full of wonder.
Perhaps she was some gentle spirit of the wood,
Drawn out by the moonlight and warm night air.
But as she came closer still,
He saw her clearly.
Solid hair.
Clear blue eyes,
And a face and form more lovely than anything he'd ever seen.
Suddenly,
She began to sing.
Light and clear as a bird.
Dancing to her own music.
Her eyes turned always to the moon.
She passed near where he stood,
Dancing on toward the far side of the glade,
Until she was only a small figure of white against the moonlit grass.
Just as he feared she might vanish altogether She turned and grew larger again.
Dancing her way back.
Singing softly.
Arms lifted toward the sky until she completed a full wide circle.
Right in front of his tree,
She stopped.
Lettersong fade and laughed,
A clear musical sound like a little brook.
Then,
As though tired,
She lay down upon the grass,
Gazing up at the moon.
The prince hardly dared to breathe,
Afraid that any movement might make her disappear.
As for approaching her,
That thought never even crossed his mind.
She lay there for a long while.
And the prince began to wonder if she were real at all.
Perhaps only a dream or some spirit of the forest.
If so,
He thought,
He too would happily stay in this wood forever.
Gladly to give up kingdom and everything else just for the chance to be near her.
He would build himself a small hut right there in the trees and live simply,
Hoping only to see her again each night she came to dance beneath the moon.
But even as he dreamed this.
.
.
She rose to her feet.
Turned her face fully to the moon,
And began to sing once more,
As though she might draw the moon itself down from the sky with her voice.
She looked,
If anything,
Even lovelier than before.
She danced away again into the distance,
And returned once more in the same graceful way.
But this time,
Worn out from watching so intently,
The prince drifted quietly off to sleep just before she came near.
When he woke,
It was full daylight,
And the princess was nowhere to be seen.
Sweet dreams my friends.
Sleep well.
