Ellie — The Little One

Ellie and the Little Path

At the edge of the great enchanted forest, where the trees grew close together and the moss made soft green carpets beneath their roots, there was a little place called the Grove.

It wasn’t very large. There were older trees in the forest, taller trees, and places where the ferns grew so thick that a traveler could disappear among them. But the Grove was special. It was where the Lightlings gathered.

It was where they came when evening settled beneath the branches, where they shared stories, rested beside the pond, and watched the first stars appear between the leaves. And it was where Ellie was learning her way.

Ellie was the littlest Lightling in the Grove. She liked everything.

She liked the sound of water moving over stones.

She liked mushrooms, especially the tiny ones that appeared overnight.

She liked butterflies.

She liked feathers.

She liked moss.

She liked things that glowed.

And she was especially fond of following things she wasn’t supposed to be following.

One evening, just as the sky beyond the trees was turning lavender, Ellie noticed something she’d never seen before.A little golden light was shining between two ferns. Ellie stopped. She leaned closer. The light disappeared. She waited. There it was again. A tiny glow, no brighter than a firefly. Ellie looked around the Grove.

Leo was tending his warm little flame.

Rill was sitting beside the pond, watching the ripples.

Fenn was somewhere among the trees, as usual.

Alden was keeping his quiet watch.

No one seemed to notice the little light.

Ellie took one small step toward it. Then another. The ferns rustled. The golden light moved farther into the woods. Ellie followed. She wasn’t afraid. She simply didn’t know where the little light was going. She stopped and looked back. The Grove was still visible between the trees.

“Just a little farther,” she whispered.

The golden light flickered ahead. Ellie followed. Soon the trees seemed taller. The moss felt softer beneath her feet. The sounds of the Grove grew quiet behind her. Then the little golden light vanished. Ellie stood very still.

She listened. Nothing.

She looked left. Nothing.

She looked right. Nothing.

For the first time that evening, Ellie wasn’t quite sure what to do.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have come,” she whispered.

Then she heard something. Not a voice. Not exactly. A sound like leaves brushing together high above her. Ellie looked up. The branches were moving gently, although there was hardly any wind. She closed her eyes. She listened again. There it was. Water. Very faint. Ellie turned toward the sound. She walked slowly through the ferns until she found a tiny stream winding between the trees.

Moonlight rested on the water. And beside the stream sat Rill.

“You found me,” Rill said.

Ellie blinked.

“I didn’t know you were here.”

Rill smiled.

“I didn’t know you were here.”

Ellie frowned. “You didn’t?”

Rill shook her head.

“I was just following the stream.”

“Did you make the little light?” Ellie asked.

“No.”

“Do you know what it is?”

Rill looked toward the trees.

“I think you should ask the forest.”

Ellie frowned.

“But forests don’t answer questions.”

Rill dipped one of her petals into the stream.

“Perhaps not in the way you expect.”

Ellie sat beside the water. For a while, neither of them spoke. The stream made its quiet sound. A beetle crawled across a leaf. Somewhere far away, an owl called.

Then Ellie noticed something. There were little golden flowers growing along the bank. This was the first time she really noticed them.

“I’ve never seen these before.” she said.

Rill looked at her.

“Are you sure?”

Ellie thought carefully.

“I don’t know.”

She leaned closer. One of the flowers had a tiny drop of water resting in its center. The moonlight caught it. And for just a moment, it glowed.

Ellie smiled with delight. It was the same little light that led her down the path.

“That’s it.”

“What is?”

“The light.”

Rill nodded.

“Perhaps.”

Ellie looked back toward the path.

“I thought the light was leading me somewhere.”

“Maybe it was.”

“Where?”

Rill smiled.

“You tell me.”

Ellie thought about the little path through the ferns. She thought about how she had followed the light because she was curious. She thought about how uncertain she had felt when it disappeared. And she thought about how, when she became quiet, she had heard the water.

“I think…” Ellie said slowly, “it was helping me notice.”

Rill smiled.

“I think so too.”

They sat together beside the stream until the moon rose higher. Then Ellie stood.

“I should go back.”

“Yes.”

She took a few steps, then turned.

“Rill?”

“Yes?”

“Will the little light still be here tomorrow?”

Rill looked at the golden flowers.

“I don’t know.”

Ellie smiled and straightened her back.

“Then I’ll have to notice.”

And together they walked home through the forest.

When they reached the Grove, Leo looked up from his little flame.

“Where have you two been?”

Ellie opened her mouth to answer. Then she stopped. Above them, tucked into the branches of the oldest tree, a single golden flower was glowing. Ellie pointed.

“Look.”

Everyone turned. And for a moment, the whole Grove was quiet. Not because there was nothing to hear. But because everyone was listening.

And that was how Ellie learned one of the first secrets of the Grove:

Sometimes the forest doesn’t call any louder.

Sometimes you simply have to become quiet enough to hear it.