relating to The Little Mermaid

 

Not the Disney version, but the original story by Hans Christian Anderson, a story light years removed from the cartoon version.

In the original, the sea witch tells the young mermaid, "I must be paid, and it is not a trifle that I ask. You have the sweetest voice of any who dwell here in the depths of the sea ...  but this voice you must give to me; the best thing you possess will I have for the price of my draught."  And she did - the sea witch cut off her tongue & the mermaid lost her beautiful voice.  Forever.  

But that wasn't all she suffered for love.  Once she traded her tail for two human legs, although she would continue to look as if she stepped more lightly than all others, every step she took felt as if she was stepping upon sharp knives.  

She could never return through the water to her sisters, or to her father’s palace again.  If she did not win the love of the prince she adored, if he was not willing to forsake father & mother & cleave unto her alone, if he did not love her with his whole soul & be joined with her in marriage, she would never gain an immortal soul.  "The first morning after he marries another your heart will break, and you will become foam on the crest of the waves.” 

And it all happens as the sea witch describes.  Every step she takes feels as if knives were driving through her feet, she had no voice of her own, she was doomed to die without an immortal soul if she could not win the love of someone who loved another, wrongly thinking she - not the little mermaid - had saved him from drowning.

In the wee small hours of this morning, found myself relating to that story.  Not that long ago, hearing Peter marvel with gratitude about his church rallying around him over the past two weeks would have felt like a dagger to my heart, it's so different from what I've experienced from mine.  Not that long ago, hearing Peter talk about how close he & Mim were to each other, it would have been another dagger to the heart, knowing what had caused that closeness to develop in the first place.  The daggers still plunge into my heart, but it is the cost for what matters more to me - being the sister Peter needs right now.  I am willing to pay the cost.

As for the voice - for years I gave that up.  Until being loved by my prince, my John, I had no voice of my own.  I spoke in the manner of people with far different voices than mine.  It was as if my tongue was cut out, because what came out wasn't me, but them.  And them at their worst, as they were in our home environment, not as they spoke when they were with others outside the immediate family.  I remember my early days in teaching, having a master teacher observe my class - her main criticism of my style was my use of sarcasm.  It was a shock to hear her opinion, since I thought everyone used sarcasm to underscore key points.  That gave me an inkling that what seemed normal & natural to me might be anything but to others.

Once she failed to win the prince's love, once he married another, the little mermaid fully accepted her fate of becoming a drop of foam on the crest of the waves, devoid of an immortal soul.  What a surprise to discover what happened next...

She cast one more lingering, half-fainting glance at the prince, and then threw herself from the ship into the sea, and thought her body was dissolving into foam. 

 

The sun rose above the waves, and his warm rays fell on the cold foam of the little mermaid, who did not feel as if she were dying. She saw the bright sun, and all around her floated hundreds of transparent beautiful beings; she could see through them the white sails of the ship, and the red clouds in the sky; their speech was melodious, but too ethereal to be heard by mortal ears, as they were also unseen by mortal eyes. The little mermaid perceived that she had a body like theirs, and that she continued to rise higher and higher out of the foam. “Where am I?” asked she, and her voice sounded ethereal, as the voice of those who were with her; no earthly music could imitate it. 

“Among the daughters of the air,” answered one of them. “A mermaid has not an immortal soul, nor can she obtain one unless she wins the love of a human being. On the power of another hangs her eternal destiny. But the daughters of the air, although they do not possess an immortal soul, can, by their good deeds, procure one for themselves. We fly to warm countries, and cool the sultry air that destroys mankind with the pestilence. We carry the perfume of the flowers to spread health and restoration. After we have striven for three hundred years to all the good in our power, we receive an immortal soul and take part in the happiness of mankind. You, poor little mermaid, have tried with your whole heart to do as we are doing; you have suffered and endured and raised yourself to the spirit-world by your good deeds; and now, by striving for three hundred years in the same way, you may obtain an immortal soul.” 

The little mermaid lifted her glorified eyes towards the sun, and felt them, for the first time, filling with tears. On the ship, in which she had left the prince, there were life and noise; she saw him and his beautiful bride searching for her; sorrowfully they gazed at the pearly foam, as if they knew she had thrown herself into the waves. Unseen she kissed the forehead of her bride, and fanned the prince, and then mounted with the other children of the air to a rosy cloud that floated through the aether. 

“After three hundred years, thus shall we float into the kingdom of heaven,” said she.


In the wee small hours of this morning, I found myself marveling at the wonder of John's loving, at his patience in helping he discover that what I thought was my voice wasn't, that he had no interest in what it had to say, but was all ears for what the actual ME had to say.  I could not be the sister Peter needs me to be if John hadn't helped me find out who I am.  

There will be times when Peter says things that feel like a dagger to my heart, instead of the knives to the feet the little mermaid suffered.  But it will mean as little to me as her pain did to her.  Oh, she felt it - but something else mattered more.  

Unlike the little mermaid, my prince - my John - does love me with his whole soul & we were joined in marriage.  The two of us became one.  Almost as miraculous, in time I became myself.  And that ain't no fairy tale!