Daffodils

Once upon a time there was a traveller with a lonely heart. He searched high and low for a heart that was open, for a heart that cared. He travelled through crowded streets of a thousand people, and he travelled through vast distances of solitude in the desert. And yet, he found not one. 

And one day, under a tree which the weary traveller rested, there was a strange noise that woke the traveller. It was a common little golden fox. 

The little fox looked intently at the traveller, and after a while, said, “You are very beautiful indeed”. 

“Am I?” The traveller replied, “no one has told me that in a long long time.” 

And the little fox said, “Perhaps you have not had a friend in a long long time.” 

The traveller said sadly, “Perhaps you are right.”

The little fox said “I do not know you, but if you’d like to come, I’d take you to the dances in the moonlight. If you’d like, I’d show you where the fattest rabbits nest. If you’d like, I’d show you where the daffodils meet the sunlight. If you’d like, I’d try being a friend.” 

Now, the little fox was a common fox, he had a fluffy coat and pointy ears, as do all other little foxes. There was nothing spectacular about him. And yet, his words touched the traveller’s heart like no one had in a long time, and the traveller smiled, for the first time in a long long while. 

The little fox made good his promises, and traveller was enthralled. Everything was new and exotic, and delightful. The traveller felt a new beat pick up in his heart, and he glowed with a new radiance. 

And yet, as the days passed, the little fox became quiet and frequently lost in thought. 

One day, the little fox returned from a day of hunting in the fields, and was greeted by the traveller, whose heart and smile beamed at seeing the little fox. 

The little fox smiled too, but he let out a little sigh at the end of that smile. 

 

Now the traveller was astonished. What could be wrong?

And so he asked the little fox, “dear friend, what troubles you that you sigh?”

The little fox sat down slowly, and tucked his paws under him, and looked up at the traveller. And he said “Ah, talking to you has become a habit aye?” 

The traveller asked, a little hesitantly, “Is that such a bad thing?” 

The little fox was silent for a moment, and he said “A bad habit? Naw, it’s not.”

The traveller pressed further, “Then, dear friend, what bothers you? This is a beautiful place; it’s almost like a fairy tale for me.”

The little fox was so quiet, he was nearly inaudible now, and he said, “Maybe… maybe… that’s what’s sad… It’s a fairy tale, but only you get to take it with you. This is still reality for me when you’re gone, except that you will no longer be here.”

 

And the traveller fell silent.

The little fox continued, “But… it will all be worth it… because of the colour of the daffodils…” 

And they both fell silent, as the sun set, and bathed the daffodils in all of its fleeting brilliance.