What's Your Story?

So yeah, I'm a bit of a fairy-tales nut. This includes all the Disney movies, and of course the traditional fairy-tales as well. The Brothers Grimm, Hans Christen Andersen, Lewis Carroll, Charles Perrault and so on. While many people believe that fairy-tales are a waste of time, I beg to differ. All stories, whether true or made up, have some moral behind them. It's up to us to discover that moral. Little Mermaid-traditional version-don't make deals with seas witches...bad things happen. Just kidding. But there is some truth to that. Not the sea witches, but the making deals that could potentially cause greater harm than good. We need to think carefully before jumping into deals. Rumpelstiltskin would be the same lesson. Cinderella-always have courage and be kind no matter the circumstance you find yourself in. Alice in Wonderland-things are not always as they appear. Also, don't do drugs or eat mushrooms if you don't know what kind they are...you trip out. Sleeping Beauty-don't piss off a witch...in other words, be nice...and love conquers all I suppose if we must go there. (Insert your own chuckle or smart remark here). Snow White-don't take food from creepy strangers. You get the idea.
Now while some of these are humorous and mildly sarcastic, there is a bit of truth even behind the sarcasm. There's a lesson to be learned from every story we read, or hear. It's up to you whether or not to heed the lesson, or twist it just because you don't like the author. I know several people who despise certain authors to the point where they refuse to listen to anything good about them and refuse to find the good in any story they've written. I can't tell you how many times I've had to bite my tongue and let them have their opinion.
Me? I read so much and so often that while I generally remember many plots, I tend to take books with a grain of salt and find the good in it. So, here's me going out on a limb and admitting a little of the brains behind this blog. I've read and forgotten more books than most people I know have ever read. I promise it's not arrogance speaking here. Actually, I don't generally talk about it because where I grew up, I got what I like to call book shamed. Which basically means I got put down for always having my nose stuck in a book. A lot like Belle in Beauty and the Beast. Frankly, it's probably why I always felt connected to her more than any other character I've ever read. Not the locked in a castle, falling in love with a beast thing, but the classic, not fitting in because of being "odd" for reading so much and not being afraid of thinking outside the box or even the realm of reality. Considering the amount of books I read, that's saying something.
But for all the books I've read, and all the stories I've crossed, the countries, time periods, lands, worlds, and galaxies I've traveled while never leaving home, there's one set of unpublished, unwritten stories that have always meant the most to me. These are the bedtime stories Author and I used to tell to each other late at night snuggled in our beds when we couldn't sleep.
Remember that old jewelry box I mentioned a little while ago? Well, it now has a back story thanks to Author who was inspired by the post and our old stories. So, in honor of that and her, here's the new back story of the jewelry box from "Interior Design".

 A Mother's Gift

An English housekeeper carefully wrapped the jewelry box in some cloth. When she was younger she had served as a maid to the duchess of the castle. She’d cared for her even when she became ill. Her mistress’ last request had been for her daughter to receive the box on her sixteenth birthday. That day had finally arrived. The celebration was in full swing but the faithful servant didn’t take this gift down. Instead she took it to the girl’s room and set it tenderly on her dressing table, knowing that when the girl got ready for bed that night she would find the gift.

 

That night a happy but exhausted Lady Haleigh climbed the winding castle stairs to her room. Her maid, Caty was already waiting to brush out and braid her hair and help her out of her dress. Falling into her chair by her dressing table she frowned at the bundle that hadn’t been there when she’d left the room that morning.

 

“Caty, do you know where this came from?”

“Mrs. Wilkins said she left you a gift, I believe that must be it.”

 

Unwrapping the cloth she sucked in a breath, “It was my mother’s.”

 

Caty met Haleigh’s gaze in the mirror and smiled at her. “Happy Birthday my lady.”