Pearlie
A father once had three daughters. Two were stunning beautiesso lovely that everyone who saw them marvelled. The third, however, was little, thin, and walked with a hunchback, though her eyes sparkled brighter than the stars. Working in the fields was difficult for her, and she struggled to keep up with her older sisters, finding the simplest chores a challenge.
The eldest sisters, Annabel and Dorothy, were endlessly courtedsuitors lined up at their door, competing for their favour. The youngest, Pearlie, was ignored by all. Not a single young man gave her a second glance. The older girls insisted, Until we find a match for Pearlie, we shant wed ourselves!
Time passed, but no one proposed to Pearlie. They dressed her in fine frocks, dabbed colour on her cheeks, but all their efforts were in vain. People around the village began to chuckle, Youll wait to marry for so long, the three of you will end up spinsters together!
Pearlie overheard these whispers and her heart achednot for herself, but for her dear sisters. One night she made up her mind, I cant keep spoiling my sisters lives. Its better for me to leave. They deserve their chance at happiness. Ill head to the town and find work as a servant, perhaps.
She waited until the household was fast asleep, tied up a small bundle, and quietly slipped out beneath the moonlit sky. Pearlie walked the night away, the silver glow showing her path. She wasnt afraid until she reached the woods; her heart flutteredshe worried she might meet a wild animal. Yet she pressed on, following a narrow trail between the trees.
As dawn crept in, Pearlie was worn outtown was still a far way off. She decided to rest beneath a hazel bush, using her bundle for a pillow and her shawl for a blanket. Somewhere close by, an axe chopped wood, startling her awake. Next thing she knewCRACK!a dry tree toppled nearby. Pearlie jumped up, panic-stricken, wanting to run. But an old man approached instead. He was short, yet sturdy, with a snowy beard, holding an axe.
Pearlie shrank back, but the old man smiled kindly. No need to be frightened, dear. I mean you no harm.
Who are you, Granddad? Pearlie asked, catching her breath, You nearly struck me with that tree!
Im the groundskeeper here, he replied. I live close by; just felling some deadwood. And what brings you, child, into the wood all alone?
Pearlie told him her woes. The old man stroked his beard, thinking, then said, Youre a good and caring girl. Why not stay in my cottage, as my granddaughter? If you change your mind, Ill see you safely to the town myself.
Relief swept over Pearlie, and she gladly agreed. So they lived together. The old groundskeeper spent his days tending the wood, while Pearlie managed the houseworklittle enough to do, and she soon kept pace.
He was a warm, jolly soul, full of stories from his long years. Gradually he taught Pearlie about herbs and roots, which berries to gather and how to prepare them, the secrets of healing wildflowers. Pearlie listened closely and learned all she could.
Eventually, the old man felt his time was near. Pearlie wept bitterly, but the groundskeeper took her hands and said, Dont grieve, my dear. All things must end, and you must go home. Ive shared with you every secret I know. I spent my life helping the woodnow you help people instead.
When the old man passed away, Pearlie laid him to rest and, after mourning, returned to her village.
Annabel and Dorothy had by then both marriedeach to brothers, and together with their husbands, they lived in a fine, big house. When Pearlie appeared, safe and sound, the sisters cried with happiness. They welcomed her warmly, gave her a bright, airy room, and she became an indispensable help. Pearlies wisdom grew; she could enrich the soil, cure illnesses, and banish weedsjust as the old man had taught her. The family harvest was always bountiful, their livestock healthy, and none under the roof ever fell ill. The sisters were grateful and cheerful.
Soon, word of Pearlies skills spread. Villagers started coming for her advice. Pearlie helped all, refusing payment. If someone could, theyd bring her a basket of eggs or a handkerchief; for the poorest or sickest, she never asked a penny.
There also lived in the village an old woman, Maud Crowley, a fortune-teller. She knew many things, but people whispered that her gifts came from a darker place. When Pearlies kindness drew the villagers away, Maud began plotting. She put on a face of woe, wrapped herself in her oldest shawl, and hobbled to see Pearlie.
Good day, dearest Pearlie! she wheezed.
Good day to you, Gran, Pearlie replied, always friendly.
I need your help, love, Maud moaned, clutching her arm. This wretched painits crippling!
Sit here, Gran, let me look at it. Pearlie examined her hand. Are you sure its this arm? May I check the other?
Oh yes, my dearit aches terribly, leaves me weak! the old woman groaned.
Pearlie frowned. Theres nothing wrong with this hand, Gran.
No? But look how the fingers are all twisted! Maud wailed.
Pearlie shook her head gently, but said, Well, whether it aches or not, rest it for a while.
Maybe Im better already, talking to you, Maud suddenly agreed, handing Pearlie a little mirror. A gift, my dearyoure a pretty girl, you should admire yourself now and then.
Thank you, Gran, Pearlie replied, May your kind words bear only kindness! Kindness is always stronger than meanness.
But Maud had whispered a spiteful spell over that mirror.
Nevertheless, as time passed, strange things started happening. Pearlies hunch slowly faded; she grew straighter, her limp lessened. She would look in the old mirror and smile. Maud, seeing her curses fail, returned, complaining this time of an aching back and weakness in her legs. But her own health truly began to unravelher nastiness recoiling upon herself.
Pearlie gave her herbal mixtures and advice, and again Maud offered a gifta carved bone comb. A lovely girl should care for her appearance, dear.
Pearlie took it, saying, Thank you, Gran. May your good wishes find their way home.
The weeks passed, and people marvelledPearlie bloomed, her cheeks grew rosy, her hair thickened, her whole being glowed with strength. And Maud fadedher fingers gnarled, back stooped, feet would not support her; soon she could only moan and call out for Pearlie.
Annabel and Dorothy tried to stop their sister. Dont go, Pearlie, they warned, Maud is a witchdanger lurks in her house!
Dont worry, Pearlie replied, morning brings clear heads.
At daybreak, Pearlie washed with fresh water, donned her neatest dress, and filled a basket with honeycomb, orchard apples, and scented herbs.
Her sisters gasped when they saw her. Pearlie, how you shinewhether its the gown or some enchantment, youre not the same!
Pearlie walked to Mauds cottage. She reached to open the gate, but it slammed firm against her touch and wouldnt budge.
Granny! she called. Allow me in. I cant open your gate.
From inside, a racket eruptedcreaks and stomps, pots clanged in the hearth, voices muttered wickedly: Dont let her enter! Her goodness repels curses, her kind words heal evil, misfortune flees from her!
Pearlie waited, then tried again. Granny Maud, are you well? Ive brought you honey, apples, and herbs.
She leaned across the gate and left her basket on the path.
Suddenly, black smoke billowed from Mauds chimney, swirling so thickly even the bravest villagers stared in terror. Crows burst from the windows and fled; the cottage walls blackened and charred. People rushed for water, hacking at the fence, fearing the house might burn.
But as the first ray of morning sun lit the scene, the smoke vanished and the cottage was reduced to a neat pile of cold ashesno spark, no flame remained.
That was Mauds bitterness destroying her, the villagers whispered. She tried to curse Pearlie, but goodness turned her magic back upon herself.
From that day, Pearlie only grew lovelier. Soon she caught the eye of a kind-hearted young man from the same village. They married in harmony, never knowing a quarrel; Annabel and Dorothy rejoiced for their little sister.
Where Maud Crowleys house once stood, wild raspberries soon spilled over the groundplump, sweet, and plentiful. The whole village came picking them, and what used to be a place of dread became a place of joy. So many berries grew that the village was soon lovingly called Berryfield.
And those who remembered the story said Pearlie had taught them how kindness returns to those who give it, love chases away bitterness, and goodnesslike wild fruitspreads where you least expect.
