Circle of Hope
A daemon sat by himeslf crying, for he no longer could fly. There were still so many blessings and love in his charge to give, but he could no longer fly. The joy and happiness he must share, but could not, weighed heavily on his shoulders, anchoring him to Earth.
So the daemon of happiness and joy became known among the villagers for his profound sorrow. A river of tear ran through the village, springing from where he sat. But the water was too bitter for fish to thrive.
“If only the sun would come out for long enough,” muttered the daemon, crying into his hands, “then the wetness that weighs down my wings would evaporate, so I can fly again.” But the sun never did come out for long enough, so the daemon kept crying into his river of tear.
Parents warned their children of ever going near the unlucky daemon, for fear of their drowning in his sorrow.
One day a little girl from the city came to visit, picking daisies and finding four-leaf clovers in the meadow. She was delighted to find the meadow where the daemon sat blooming with daisies of all kinds and constellations of the lucky clovers, nourished by his tear.
There she met the crying daemon. With daisy petals and clovers in her hands, happy as only a child could be, she looked at the crying daemon. Not knowing who he was, the girl asked,
“Why are you crying?”
“My wings are heavy with wetness, so I cannot fly.”
“But they will dry. Will they not?”
“The sun never comes out for long enough.”
“Your wings are heavy because they are wet with your tear. You don’t have to wait for the sun. All you need is to stop crying,” said the naive little girl.
“Stop crying?” the daemon blinked, “but my wings are wet, and I cannot fly.”
“Well… there,” the little girl kissed the daemon on the forehead, “you can stop crying now.”
