One of the unique qualities that human beings possess to the exclusion of all other earthly creatures is our ability to dream. We, singularly, are endowed with the capacity to reach beyond our grasp. However, it’s not enough to just wish, dream, or hope. Even children know this. We must set sail into the sea of uncertainty. We must meet fear face-to-face. We must take our dreams as maps for a greater journey. Dreams, to come true, need a good story. It is our dreams that fuel our ability to picture our story, while it is our drive, our perseverance that allows us to live it out.
The following old English tale is a reminder that the bigger our dreams may be, it often follows that the bigger is the effort required on our part in order to realize them.
Once upon a time there lived a precocious little girl who wanted nothing more than to touch the stars in the sky. On clear, moonless nights she would lean out of her bedroom window, gazing up at the countless sparkling and shimmering lights that seemed to dance across the heavens. Pondering them both amazed and excited the young girl beyond any of the normal attractions that her peers seemed to gravitate to.
One warm summer evening, as the entire sky seemed to come alive like a twinkling symphony of diamonds, the little girl decided she could no longer stand it—she had to touch a star or two, no matter what the consequences. So she silently slipped out of her bedroom window and started off down the path that led from the comfort of her home and family to where she hoped her dreams would become reality.
She walked a far, far way, and then farther still, until she came upon an enchanted mill wheel, creaking and grinding away. “Good evening,” she said to the mill wheel. “I would like to play with the little stars in the sky. Have you seen any near here?”
“Ah, yes,” groaned the old mill wheel, “every night they shine in my face from the surface of this pond until their brightness robs me of my sleep. Jump into my millpond, my lass, and you will surely find them.”
Smiling and excited, the little girl jumped into the still water and swam around until her arms were so tired she could no longer continue, but she encountered no stars.
“Excuse me,” she panted to the old mill wheel, “but I don’t believe there are any stars here after all!”
“Well, there certainly were before you jumped in and stirred the water up,” the mill wheel replied. So the little girl climbed out of the pond and dried herself off as best she could, and set out across the fields. She felt a tad of disappointment but her determination to realize her dream was stronger than any small impediment that might temporarily arise.
After a short journey, she came across a little brook, murmuring over its mossy stones.
“Good evening, brooklet,” she politely said. “I’m trying to reach the stars in the sky so that I might play with them. Have you seen any near here?”
“Yes, my lady,” babbled the brook. “They glint on my banks on every clear night such as tonight. Wade in, my lassie, and I am confident that you will find plenty of them to play with.”
So the little girl waded in and paddled around for a long while. She climbed all over the mossy rocks, but never once did she spot a star.
“Pardon me,” she said as politely as she could, “but I just don’t think that there are any stars here.”
“What do you mean, no stars here?” the brook stammered in reply. “There are lots of stars here. I see them all the time. On some nights, they cover me from the edge of the woods all the way down to the old mill pond. I have more stars here than I know what to do with!” And the brook babbled on and on until it even forgot that the little girl was there, so she tiptoed away and continued her journey across the fields.
After a while she sat down to rest in a meadow. It must have been a fairy meadow because, before she knew it, a hundred or more little fairies came scampering out to dance on the grass. They were no taller than toadstools and they were dressed in silver and gold.
“Good evening, Little Folk,” said the girl. “I’m trying to reach the stars in the sky. Have you seen any near here?”
“Oh yes,” sang the fairies. “They glisten every night among the blades of grass. Come and dance with us, little girl, and you will find as many stars as you like.”
So the child danced and danced. She whirled round and round in a ring with the Little Folk, but though the grass gleamed beneath her feet, she never spied a single star. Finally she could dance no more and dizzily plopped down inside the ring of fairies.
“I’ve tried and I’ve tried, but I can’t seem to reach the stars from down here,” she cried out with frustration. “I fear that if I don’t find someone soon who can really help me, I shall never realize my dream of being able to play with them!”
The fairies, showing great concern, gathered and whispered to one another. Finally one of them crept up, tenderly grasped the little girl’s hand, and whispered in her ear: “If you’re really determined, you must go forward. Keep going forward, and mind you take the right road. Ask Four Feet to carry you to No Feet At All, and then tell No Feet At All to carry you to the Stairs Without Steps, and if you climb that—
“Then I’ll be among the stars in the sky?” the little girl exclaimed.
“If you’ll not be there, then you’ll be somewhere else, won’t you?” laughed the fairy, as he vanished with all the rest.
Undaunted, despite her being tried and tired, the little girl set out again. By and by she came upon a saddled horse tied to a tree.
“Good evening,” she said. “I’m trying to reach the stars in the sky, and I’ve come so far my bones are aching. Would you be so kind as to give me a ride, fine horse?”
“I don’t know anything about stars in the sky,” the horse replied, “I’m here only to do the bidding of the Little Folk.”
“But I just came from the Little Folk,” the little girl cried out, “and they said to tell Four Feet to carry me to No Feet At All.”
“Four Feet? That’s me!” the horse whinnied. “Jump up and ride with me.”
They rode and they rode and they rode, until they rode out of the forest and found themselves at the edge of the sea.
“I’ve brought you to the end of the land, and that’s as much as Four Feet can do,” said the horse. “Now I must get home to my own folk.”
So the little girl slid down and walked along the sea, wondering what in the world she would do next. Despite her fatigue and disappointment, she refused to be discouraged. Suddenly, the biggest fish she had ever seen came swimming up to her feet.
“Good evening, ” she said to the fish. I’m trying to reach the stars in the sky. Can you help me?”
“I’m afraid I can’t,” gurgled the fish, “unless, of course, you bring me word from the Little Folk.”
“But I do,” she cried. “They said Four Feet would bring me to No Feet At All, and then No Feet At All would carry me to the Stairs Without Steps.”
“Well,” replied the fish, “in that case you’ve come to the right party. I am No Feet At All, so just climb on my back and hold on tight!”
And off he went—kerplash!—into the water, swimming along a silver path that glistened on the surface and seemed to stretch to the end of the sea, where the water met the sky. There, in the distance, the little girl saw a beautiful rainbow rising out of the ocean and into the heavens, shining with all the colors of the world, blues and reds and greens and wondrous it was to look at. The nearer they drew, the brighter it gleamed, until she had to shade her eyes from its light.
At last they came to the foot of it, and she saw that the rainbow was really a broad bright road, sloping up and away into the sky, and at the far, far end of it she could see wee shining things dancing about.
“I can go no further,” said the fish. Here are the Stairs Without Steps. Climb up, if you can, but hold on tight. These stairs were never meant for little girl’s feet, you know.” So she jumped off No Feet’s back, and off he splashed through the water.
The little girl climbed and she climbed and she climbed up the rainbow. It wasn’t easy. Every time she took one step, she seemed to slide back two. And even though she climbed until the sea was far below, the stars in the sky looked farther away than ever.
“But I won’t give up,” she told herself, “I’ve come so far, I can’t go back!”
Up and up she went. The air grew colder and colder, but the sky turned brighter and brighter, and finally she could tell that she was nearing the stars.
“I’m almost there!” she cried.
And sure enough, suddenly she reached the very tip-top of the rainbow. Everywhere she looked, the stars were turning and dancing. They raced up and down, back and forth, and spun in a thousand colors around her.
“I’m finally here,” she whispered to herself. She had never seen anything so beautiful before as she stood gazing and wondering at the heavens.
But after a while she realized that she was shivering with cold, and when she looked down into the darkness, she could no longer see the earth. She wondered where her own home was, so far away, but no streetlamps or window lights marked the blackness below. She began to feel a little dizzy.
“I won’t go until I touch one star,” she told herself, and then she stood on her toes and stretched her arms as high as she could. She reached further and further—and suddenly a shooting star zipped by and surprised her so much that she lost her balance.
Down she slid—down—down—down the rainbow. The further she slid, the warmer it grew, and the warmer it grew, the sleepier she felt. She gave a great yawn, and a small sigh, and before she knew it, she was fast asleep.
When she awakened, she found herself in her very own bed. The sun was peeking through her window, and the morning birds sang in the bushes and trees.
“Did I really touch the stars?” she asked herself. “Or was it only a dream?”
Then she felt something tingling in her clenched hand. When she opened her fist, a tiny light flashed in her palm, and at once it was gone, and she smiled because she knew it was a speck of stardust. Although her muscles were weary from her effort, she relished in the attainment of her dream and, as the rays of radiant morning sunlight pierced her room, she immersed herself in glowing thoughts of the adventuresome quest that lay ahead in the pursuit and achievement of her next dream.
“The heights charm us, but the steps do not; with the mountain in our view we love to walk the plains.” ? Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Have an AWE-full weekend!
William J. “Bill” Bacqué