Friday's Forest Fable

The Crow Sisters and the Rumour That Grew Wings

There are very few secrets in Down Whimsy Way.

This is largely because there are three crows who live in the crooked old cottage beside the bell tower.

The Crow Sisters.

They don't gossip, of course.

They simply have what they like to call an unusually enthusiastic interest in village affairs.

And one Friday morning, that interest was about to cause rather a lot of trouble.

It began when one of the sisters spotted Mr Bramble outside the Key Keeper's shop.

He was carrying a parcel.

A perfectly ordinary brown-paper parcel, tied neatly with string.

"Interesting," said the first Crow Sister.

"Very," said the second.

They watched as Mr Bramble knocked on the door.

The Key Keeper appeared, exchanged a few words with him and took the parcel inside.

The door closed.

The sisters looked at one another.

"Did you see that?"

"I certainly did."

"A parcel."

"A mysterious parcel."

Nobody had said it was mysterious.

But it sounded much more interesting that way.

Ten minutes later, the Crow Sisters arrived at Mr Tea Toad's teahouse.

"Morning!" said Mr Tea Toad. "Tea?"

"Please," said the first sister.

"And perhaps something calming," added the second. "There's been a rather mysterious delivery."

Mr Tea Toad paused with the teapot halfway to the cup.

"Mysterious?"

"Very."

"To the Key Keeper."

"Brown paper."

"Tied with string."

Mr Tea Toad considered this.

"Sounds like a parcel."

"Precisely," whispered the sisters.

Mr Tea Toad wasn't entirely sure what they meant by that.

But before long, the Clockmaker Rabbit entered for his morning tea.

"Have you heard?" asked one of the sisters.

"Heard what?"

"A mysterious parcel has arrived at the Key Keeper's shop."

"Nobody knows what's inside."

The Clockmaker Rabbit's ears stood up.

"How intriguing."

By the time he left the teahouse, the mysterious parcel had become a mysterious locked parcel.

Nobody was quite sure where the lock had come from.

At eleven o'clock, the Clockmaker Rabbit mentioned it to Bartholomew Snailsworth.

Bartholomew adjusted his monocle.

"A locked parcel?"

"So I understand."

"Curious."

"Extremely."

"Do we know who sent it?"

The Clockmaker Rabbit thought for a moment.

"No."

Bartholomew nodded thoughtfully.

And so, quite naturally, by lunchtime the village had acquired a mysterious locked parcel from an unknown sender.

This was when things began to get out of hand.

The Moss Witch heard about it while buying bread.

She heard that the parcel had been discovered in the forest.

The baker heard that strange noises were coming from inside it.

Mr Bramble was informed that he'd apparently delivered it at midnight.

"I did no such thing!" he protested.

Nobody seemed particularly interested.

The story was far too exciting now.

By three o'clock, someone had added a missing key.

By four, the Wishing Well had apparently whispered a warning.

And shortly before five, the Crow Sisters heard the most extraordinary news of all.

They hurried into the teahouse.

"Have you heard?!" cried the first.

"There's a dragon egg in the Key Keeper's shop!"

The second sister gasped.

"A DRAGON EGG?"

"Apparently."

"Who told you?"

The first sister paused.

She couldn't quite remember.

The sisters stared at each other.

Something about this seemed vaguely familiar.

At that very moment, the door opened.

In walked the Key Keeper.

Under her arm was the mysterious parcel.

The entire teahouse fell silent.

Even the kettle seemed to stop bubbling.

The Key Keeper looked around.

"Everything all right?"

Nobody answered.

Finally, Bartholomew cleared his throat.

"We understand you've received a rather unusual parcel."

The Key Keeper looked down at it.

"This?"

Everyone leaned closer.

She placed it on the table.

The Crow Sisters held their breath.

The Key Keeper untied the string.

She opened the paper.

And pulled out...

A new teapot.

There was a long silence.

Mr Tea Toad's eyes lit up.

"Oh! Is that the one I ordered?"

"It was delivered to my shop by mistake," said the Key Keeper. "Mr Bramble brought it over this morning."

The Crow Sisters looked at one another.

"No dragon?" whispered one.

"No missing key?" asked the other.

"No," said the Key Keeper.

"No mysterious stranger?"

"No."

"No warning from the Wishing Well?"

The Key Keeper frowned.

"What on earth have you three been up to?"

From the corner of the room came the unmistakable sound of Bartholomew Snailsworth trying very hard not to laugh.

That evening, the Crow Sisters sat outside their cottage.

For once, neither of them had much to say.

Eventually, the first sister spoke.

"Funny how that happened."

"Very strange."

"We only mentioned a parcel."

"A mysterious parcel."

"Well... yes."

There was another pause.

"Perhaps we got a little carried away."

"Perhaps."

From somewhere across the village, Mr Tea Toad called:

"Anyone fancy tea?"

The sisters looked at each other.

"New teapot," said one.

"I heard it's enormous," said the other.

They stopped.

A tiny smile appeared on both their faces.

"Normal-sized teapot?"

"Normal-sized teapot."

And off they flew.

Stories have a funny way of growing wings.

One person adds a little detail.

Another fills in a gap.

Someone else repeats what they think they heard.

And before long, something very different from the truth is flying around.

Sometimes it's harmless.

Sometimes it's funny.

And sometimes it isn't.

Because behind every story we tell about someone else is a real person who may never know what is being said about them.

So perhaps the Crow Sisters have a little wisdom for us this week — even if they discovered it accidentally.

Before passing a story along, ask yourself:

Do I know this is true?

Does it need to be repeated?

And is repeating it kind?

Not every story we hear needs wings.

Some are better left quietly sitting where we found them.

And as for mysterious parcels?

Sometimes...

they really are just teapots.

Until next Friday's Forest Fable...

May you always be curious enough to wonder, wise enough to question, and kind enough to know which stories are yours to tell.

With warm wishes,

Becky
The Key Keeper
Down Whimsy Way