Oh such news, dear reader! I may have found a clue as to the origin of my green skin and leafy markings, but first, how this has all come about. At the beginning of this week, early in the morning, I went into the village and delivered my gifts in secret. To Mr. and Mrs. Hume, Elise and Davy, and Mary Colson I gave a little bottle of the Joy which I specially crafted, a paper flower and a note filled with my thanks for all their kindness. It was not until the next market day when I saw them all, and I was shy but utterly delighted to find that they were pleased with their gifts. Mr. and Mrs. Hume hugged me, remarking upon my growing skill as an apothecary, and Davy and Elise said they hoped we might spend more time together. I would like that very much. Elise asked me to show her how to make the paper flowers, so perhaps we can do that together sometime. Mary Colson said nothing, but passed me a little purple envelope. I could see she had a tear in her eye, and I asked if she was alright. She smiled and assured me that she was, just insisting that I should read the note later. So after I had finished selling my wares for the day, I read it over.
She wrote about when her husband had died and how at the time she felt that all the joy had gone out of the world. Those days were hard and seemed to go on and on. That is until one winter’s day, as she was stepping outside, she saw fresh snowdrops popping out of the snow. They were her favorite flowers and her husband had often brought them to her. It caught her so off guard and such was her delight, that for a moment she forgot her sadness. And this she said was the reason she could keep her smile: the flowers always came again. There were lots of little moments throughout the day, so many things to be grateful for, and she thinks on how they all would have made her husband glad too, but, even on those rare days, when it feels like there’s no good to be found, she reminds herself that the spring always returns and the flowers come again. So the gift —the note, the remedy of Joy, and the paper flower— made her think of all this, and she wanted to share it with me.
Oh dear reader, I was deeply moved by her note, and I decided to go to the tavern and tell her so. She was sweeping the doorway and greeted me cheerily when she saw me. I thanked her again, and told how she had put into words what I could not, about how to keep the joy inside alive. “Oh” she said “we help keep it in each other”, and then with a sweet sigh, pointed to a patch of snow where, there, fresh snowdrops were just coming through. She laughed and said there must be something of the Green Sister in me, first the paper flower and now these. She paused, then added I also reminded her of the Green Children of Woolden, that was if I didn’t mind her saying so.
The Green Children of Woolden? I had no idea what she was talking about. So she explained that it was a story she learned growing up in the southern town of Woolden. Two children, a brother and sister, were said to have come wandering out of the forest near town, and both with green skin! Oh, dear reader, at this I was all surprise and excitement! Could it be that there were other people like me? I begged her to tell me more, but she apologized as she could not recall the rest. Though, she did add that it might be written down in some book of faery stories, as has become so popular nowadays. I clasped my hands and thanked her for she had been of so much more help than she realized.
Oh goodness, I know not where I might find this story, but dear reader, to think that it might be out there, that there might be other people like myself… I am filled with so much hope! And perhaps, dear reader, that is the heart of it. When I was trying to make the Joy remedy, I found there is joy in surprises, in good company, and small pleasures, but when all else fails, hope can be the heart of our joy. As the snow thaws and the spring comes, I will hold on to that joy, as well as the hope that I may yet find the answers I seek.