The Walnut and the Toad

Stories for Another Day

Into a small town one day walked a young woman named Liana, whom you may already have heard of in another story. She was very beautiful, with long, wavy, fair hair, long enough for her to sit on if she wanted to. As she walked along, she seemed to be looking for something. She passed through the town and came to a forest just outside the town. She went on until she came to a clearing among the trees. Looking around, she nodded to herself as if she had found just what she was looking for.

She took out of her pocket a long sharp splinter of wood. At its very tip there was a drop of red blood, the heart’s blood of a good and kind man. Liana looked at the splinter and smiled to herself. With a sharp thrust, she pushed it deep into the ground.

Immediately a tree sprang up, first a green sapling, that grew into a young tree with a straight trunk and strong branches while she watched. Tiny buds appeared all over the tree, and burst into flowers, each holding a small, green fruit inside. Liana fetched a bucket of water and poured it over the roots of the tree. The green fruits grew round and plump and ripe, each one a golden yellow peach that seemed to glint in the sun.

Liana nodded to herself, satisfied. Then she took a walnut out of her pocket. She blew on it and it unfolded and unfolded into a small cottage. She went inside and shut the door, and settled down to wait.

The cottage stood on the edge of a path that people from the town often passed along. Before long, a wealthy merchant came past, in his grey suit and his shiny black shoes. When he saw the tree covered in heavy, delicious fruit, he stopped and began to eat and eat and eat. He ate until he was full to overflowing, then he grabbed all the fruit he could reach and stuffed his pockets, even inside his shirt and his trousers. But all the time as he was gulping and swallowing, the man was slowly turning into a huge grey toad.

Liana came to the door of the cottage and put her head out. “Who’s there?” she called.

The merchant hopped away as fast as his four legs with their shiny black spots could carry him.

A little while later, a woman came along with three children, and a baby crying in her arms. They were all dressed in rags, thin and pale as children are who have not had enough to eat for a long time. The eldest child, a boy named Bry, saw the tree first and he pulled at his mother’s arm. “Mama, could we eat some of the fruit of this tree? It looks so good, and there is so much of it. They wouldn’t miss it if we took just one or two.” His little sisters began to cry at the sight of the peaches, and the baby wailed louder than ever.

“Knock on the door of the cottage, Bry,” his mother said, “and ask if we may take some.”

Bry ran to the door and knocked. Liana looked out and called, “Who’s there?”

“Please, may we pick some of the fruit from your tree?” the boy asked.

“It’s not my tree,” Liana said. “The fruit is free for anyone who needs it.” She shut the door.

The children tried to reach the delicious fruit, but the merchant had already picked every bit of the fruit that was within reach. The girls began to cry again, but Bry said, “Mama, let me climb on your shoulders!” He climbed up, and standing on the tips of his toes, he picked the last pieces of the fruit and passed them down.

They all ate hungrily, and even the baby stopped crying. With full tummies and rosy faces, they went on their way.

A long time passed. Liana sat at one window and then at another, looking out impatiently.

Eventually she saw a young man coming along, walking slowly even though he seemed to be in a hurry. Behind him there were twelve turtles walking in a perfectly straight line.

The young man, Gregory, noticed the tree beside the cottage and he smiled. Every bit of fruit was gone, but looking very carefully, he noticed one last golden peach almost hidden among the leaves at the very top of the tree. But how could he get it down? He thought of climbing the tree, but its branches weren’t strong enough to bear his weight. There was no ladder or anything to stand on. He stood looking up for a long time while the turtles gathered around him. The littlest turtle, Pipi, nudged his ankle. The young man looked down, and he saw that the turtle held a small, round stone in his mouth.

Gregory smiled. Aiming very carefully, he threw the stone up into the tree. It struck the twig holding the last piece of fruit and snapped it, and the golden fruit dropped into his waiting hands. It was soft and ripe and it smelled wonderful.

He knocked on the door of the cottage. Liana’s voice called, “Who’s there?” She opened the door and saw Gregory smiling at her. “Oh, it’s you,” she said. “You’ve been a long time.”

Gregory pointed to the turtles, who were politely pretending not to listen. “I couldn’t travel as fast as I wanted to. Turtles aren’t speedy, you know,” he said. “I’ve looked everywhere for you.” He held out the piece of fruit to her.

She took it and smiled, and kissed him, just once. She gave Pipi a gentle pat, then she stepped out of the cottage, folded it up and put it back into the walnut shell. She put the walnut into her pocket and off they went together, with the turtles following behind in a straight line, murmuring happily to each other.

In case you wanted to know what happened to the poor family with the crying baby, not far down the road they found a flock of crows, picking at something on the path. The crows flew off when Bry came up to see what it was. “It’s just an old dead toad,” he told his mother. In fact, the toad, hurrying to get away, was so heavy with the fruit he had eaten that his heart had burst.

“Don’t touch it,” his mother warned.

Bry peered closely into the remains the crows had left behind. “There’s something inside it,” he said. He carefully lifted out a bag, that clinked. When he opened it, it was filled with gold coins.

“So much money!” his mother said. “I wonder whose it is?”

“I guess it’s ours now,” Bry said. “It’s no good to the toad any more.”

“We should take it to the king,” his mother said. “It may be stolen, or someone may have lost it.” So they did. The king thanked them very much, and gave them a much smaller bag of coins as a reward.

Bry’s mother used the money to buy a cottage, and new clothes and new shoes for all the children. With good food and a sound roof over their heads, the family quickly grew strong and healthy. But the mother kept one of the coins and gave it to Bry. “Keep it, and use it as you think best,” she said, and Bry promised he would. But what he did with it, and why, is a story for another day.