Zahra and the Trading Tree

Once upon a time there was a girl called Zahra who walked through a forest every day to get to school. Zahra loved the forest. Sometimes it seemed as if the birds were singing, and the flowers were blooming just for her. Being outside made her very happy. But as Zahra grew older, she noticed nature less and her classmates more. Some of them had smarter clothes and fancier toys and she started to feel envious.

One day Zahra was walking home from school thinking about the things she wished you could have, and it seemed very unfair. She started to cry. Suddenly a voice whispered through the forest and startled her.

“What is wrong, Child?” rasped the voice. “Why are you crying?”

Zahra looked around but no one was there, just shimmering green leaves and dapples of light and shadow on the ground.

“Who’s there?” she whispered.

“Look up, Child,” said the voice.

Zahra lifted her gaze. Within the gnarled bark of a tree a gaping mouth and two slits of eyes stared at her.

“I am a wood sprite,” it said. “If you wish, I can make you a deal.”

Zahra backed away. “What kind of deal?”

“Whatever you wish. For only a small price.”

Zahra looked down at her bare feet on the forest floor. The moss was soft under her toes.

“The children at my school have fancy shoes. I’m sure if I had a pair of my own, I would be much happier.”

“I will give you a beautiful pair of shoes,” said the wood sprite. “All I ask in return is a few memories.”

“Memories?” Zahra frowned. “Which ones?”

“I’ll choose,” said the sprite. “Don’t worry, you won’t miss them.” A branch bent down towards her. It brushed against her face.

“Ouch!” cried Zahra, as a thorn pierced her skin. She touched her face, and a drop of blood stained her fingers. But when she looked down, she saw a beautiful pair of shoes on her feet. The next day she showed them off to her classmates and felt very proud.

That was a good deal, she thought.

A few days later Zahra noticed how shabby her dress looked beside the new shoes. She went back to the tree. To her surprise it had grown larger. The branches stretched farther than before, blocking out the sun and casting long, cold shadows.

“You’re back,” rasped the voice. “I thought you would be.”

“Please can I trade a few more memories,” said Zahra. She looked down at her old dress and pinched the thin fabric between her fingers. The air felt cool on her bare arms. “I’m sure if I had a new dress, I would be much happier.”

“It will come at the same price,” said the tree.

Zahra agreed and again the tree pierced her skin with a thorn, leaving a single drop of blood. When she looked down, she was wearing a new dress with a white collar and fine ruffles around the hem. She felt glad to look so smart, but the way home seemed longer and less familiar. The trees arched around her, their trunks seeming to move in the shadows. Roots crossed the path and caught on her shoes. It was dark when she finally found her way out of the woods, and she felt a strange emptiness as she looked up at the starry sky. Even so, the next day she enjoyed showing off her dress to her classmates.

That was a good deal, she thought again.

It wasn’t long before Zahra noticed that even with her beautiful shoes and new dress, some children still had more than her. She went back to the tree. It had grown taller still, looming above her.

“Back again,” said the tree. A branch curled around her shoulders, poised to pierce her skin. “What is it this time?”

“A silver necklace,” whispered Zahra. She cried out as a thorn plunged into her arm but from the gaping mouth of the tree came only echoes of cruel laughter.

Zahra ran, stumbling over roots and ducking her head under waving branches. Without her memories she could not find her way home and became lost in the forest. All night she searched for the path she once knew so well. She touched the silver chain on her neck, her fingers tracing the sharp edges of the diamond pendant, but it brought her no comfort. She felt empty and afraid. All the joy she had once found in nature was gone. Cold and tearful, she walked in circles until at last she found the tree again.

“Please!” she cried. “Take back your gifts! My memories are far more precious.”

“Foolish child!” shouted the tree. “You gave them up so easily.”

“Please!” Zahra begged again.

“Now I am strong.” The tree thrust out a branch to grab her. “Strong enough to take them all.”

Struggling within the grip of the tree, Zahra wriggled away from the thorn coming towards her. Unable to escape she yanked the silver chain off her neck and stabbed the point of the pendant into a branch. The tree screamed as one, two, three drops of blood leaked from the broken bark.

Immediately the tree shrank, and the face disappeared, leaving only natural grooves of wood. Sunlight shone again into the forest. Barefoot and in her old dress, Zahra could feel the moss soft under her toes, the breeze light on her skin.

Memories poured back into her mind – the sound of her sister singing, the smell of her mother baking bread and the feel of her father’s bristly chin as he kissed her goodnight. Zahra felt nothing but gratitude as she turned onto the path she knew so well and walked back to her home.