by 
Today I opened Happy Home Fairy Tales and asked myself: “What fairy tale do you want to send?” All fairy tales are ready to fly, which is one today?
I looked out the window at the blue sky and smiled: “Chamomile and Love”!
This fairy tale reminds me of a story that I want to share with you together with the fairy tale. This short story is also about love.
Welcome to Fairy Tale World!
Olga and the Fairy Tale Team 😊
***
– I just want to be loved! – the teenager answered me and again buried his nose in the computer.
He leafed through the Internet, jumping from one site to another, and with all his appearance showed me, “Get away from here”.
– Do you know what love is? – I asked.
– Sure! – the teenager grunted and again buried his nose in the computer.
– Great! I don’t know yet . . . – I said.
– Really?! – the teenager laughed, not looking up from the screen and showing with all appearance that all these pedagogical techniques were already familiar to him.
– I’m learning this, – I said.
The teenager looked at me and grinned:
– Do you want to be taught?
– No. I do not need to be taught. I want to learn myself. – I answered and continued: “You know, just when we learn to love, the first thing we meet is to be able to forgive. And for this, you need to learn to accept yourself and others as they are.
– Listen! Well, this is some kind of sermon . . .” the teenager answered, looking at me with disbelief.
– No. I just shared with you what I’m learning myself – I smiled, about to leave.
– I told you. I just want to be loved! – repeated the teenager, continuing his surfing on the Internet.
– I love you! – I said.
– Ha! Really!? – He laughed and, leaning back in his chair, looked at me with interest and added: “But what about my academic results? And anyway . . . Behavior – oops . . .”
– Of course, I love. Not for something . . . Just because you are being in my life . . . You are one for me. Same as each of all students . . . You are all unique. How can I go to work every day if I don’t love you? Or when I don’t love what am I doing here? I can’t do that because I also love myself.
– And do you love everyone? I don’t believe it!
– Yes. You also helped me now to understand more deeply how important what I am learning about Love is. Thank you! About your student results . . . You know, you decide what they should be. You just know that when we do not realize the value of what we have, we cannot take this with us. Sometimes we regret it later, sometimes not.
– Okay! These are all words! – the teenager grunted and again buried his nose in the computer.
Not only . . . My mother could not finish her studies because she did not have such an opportunity. And her example is not the only . . . – I did not have time to finish.
“Well, I have no problem with that!” – the teenager laughed. – Everything is all right with me! I’ll finish school, then . . . Well, in general, everything is paid!
– It is good when there are such opportunities. Only we are talking about love. Can I ask you one question? – I asked.
– It depends on which . . .” – the teenager looked at me warily.
– If you do not want to answer – do not answer. – I said and continued: “The question is simple – Why do you need to be loved?”
Our conversation at that time was short-lived, but in our relationship appeared what I call “Heart-to-Heart relationship”.
Later, the teenager told me one phrase that I want to share with you: “You know, you are a normal! Well … I mean, you don’t tell me how to live.”
– You know, I’m learning this too! – I laughed
– Really?! – the teenager laughed in response.
– Yes. We are all students. I have learned a lot with you. Thank you!
CHAMOMILE AND LOVE
Chamomile carefully spread her petals, sighed, and guessed again. “Loves me–loves me not . . . loves me–loves me not . . . loves me not . . .
Oh! Nobody loves me! No matter how much I try!” Chamomile said sadly, bending her last petal . . . thought for a while and added stubbornly, “I’m trying again!” As soon as she started whispering the words of eternal divination, she heard a mocking giggle.
Chamomile stopped and carefully looked around. . . . Under the fence, her neighbor Nettle was comfortably situated. Nettle was not friends with anyone, and the inhabitants of the vegetable garden knew from personal experience—it was better not to touch her! “So, you’re starting again?” Nettle asked sarcastically.
Chamomile lowered her head and murmured quietly, “It’s good that your flowers are small . . .” “What do you mean by that?” Nettle responded suspiciously. “There is no need to guess about Love . . .” “Huh?! Why do we need to guess about it?” “It’s sad if no one loves you.”
Nettle looked at herself and chuckled arrogantly, “I don’t need it. I love myself. That’s what’s most important!” “If you know you are needed by someone, it’s lighter to live in our World,” Chamomile said thoughtfully. Nettle leaned over to Chamomile and asked softly, “If no one loves you, maybe you can give me some of your space?” “How is it?” Chamomile was confused. Nettle leaned over to her and explained, “Well . . . if no one needs you, then why take up so much . . .”
She did not have time to say the last word as a kind voice emerged from somewhere, “I love you all! I need you all!” Chamomile raised her head and looked around, but saw no one. Nettle, looking back fearfully, edged away from Chamomile. “Err, um, that’s right . . . just asking . . . I don’t need anything!”
“Nothing?!” Raspberry, living nearby Nettle, exclaimed in outrage and added indignantly. “And who is always stinging?!” “Come on! I only touched you once, accidentally,” snapped Nettle. “Hey, guys! Did you hear that?! Nettle—and ‘accidentally’!” a chorus of garden inhabitants began to complain indignantly. . . .
The big yellow Squash, who was still calmly basking in the Sun, turned, and delicately asked, “Dear me, please, a little quieter!” Nobody listened! The plants looked for who offended whom, when, and for what. There was such a noise that Chamomile did not know where to hide her head.
No one remembered how it had all started! The quarrel grew like a big dark cloud. It seemed that a little bit more and a thunderstorm would erupt. “I love you very much! I need you all!” was again heard from somewhere above. These quiet, kind words spread peace and tranquillity to the garden.
The plants stopped quarrelling and looked around. All the same familiar faces . . . whose voice had addressed them? It sounded again, quiet and affectionate: “You are all my children. How can I not love you?”
Squash, not understanding where these beautiful words came from, clarified, “You love everyone, really?” “Everyone!” came the answer. “Excuse me . . . even Nettle?” Raspberry asked in a whisper, looking around in surprise. “What?! What about me? You’re clinging to me again!” Nettle said indignantly.
Whispering, looking around, and still not understanding who needs them all, the plants again began to list their grievances. Seeing this, Squash said firmly, “Don’t quarrel! Quiet!”
In the unexpected silence, everyone heard the quiet voice of Chamomile. “Loves me–loves me not . . . loves! Loves!” she repeated happily. Spreading her whitish petals and closing her eyes, Chamomile smiled joyfully and stretched her bright head towards the blue Sky. She opened her face to the gentle sunrays and whispered gratefully, “Thank you, Sun!”
“What is she saying?” Nettle asked Squash in surprise. “What-what? She is thanking the Sun for loving us all!” Squash answered Nettle, and carefully rolled as far away from her as possible.
It now became clear to everyone where the tender words had come from. “Sun! Sun loves us all! Without his love, as without Water, Land, and Sky, we would not live!” exclaimed Raspberry. “Yes! Yes!” All the plants supported her in unison, jiggling their leaves excitedly.
Only Nettle was unconvinced. “Humph! Who needs this love?! I can live without it!” she said stubbornly.
“Everyone needs it!” Raspberry replied firmly. Sun, with his warm rays, gently stroked Nettle’s prickly leaves, which were belligerently sticking out in all directions. “Err . . . what am I? I don’t mind . . .” she whispered, and suddenly exclaimed admiringly, “Look how beautiful our Chamomile is!”
Everyone looked at Chamomile . . . indeed, how beautiful she was!
Her white lace head shone in the bright blue Sky. Like the gentle sails of celestial ships that had gathered together in the boundless ocean to sail on across the great World. Chamomile was grateful for those who did not care how many petals you have, what color they are, what size are your leaves, or if you have thorns or not.
Chamomile thanked those who loved her for just being on Earth. . . .
It became quiet in the garden. The inhabitants were grateful for the sincere love of One to all. . . . Each in their own way, not paying attention to the outside.
If you love sincerely, giving the light from each particle of your heart, does it matter where you are or how loud are your words? No. . . .
If you speak from the heart, can anything hinder it?
From the book “Happy Home Fairy Tales for children and adults”
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