The Little Elder Tree Mother is an 1845 Danish fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen. It's also known as The Elderbush. The Elder Tree Mother or Holundermutter inhabits elderberry trees. She's a north Germanic deity of the household, dreams and remembrance.
The Little Elder Tree Mother
One day a little boy catches cold and has to stay in bed. His mother is making elderberry flower tea to soothe his symptoms when the old man who lives upstairs comes in. He tells fantastic stories. While the elderberry tea steeps the little boy begs to hear one.
"A new fairy tale," he says. "One I haven't heard yet."
The old man says, "You mustn't rush fairy tales. When they're ready to be told they will appear."
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"Will one appear soon?" asks the boy, sipping his tea.
"Look at the teapot," says the man, "and you'll see one there already."
The boy's eyes widen, for from the pot grows a sprout, then leaves, boughs and flowers of an elder tree. Laced with white blossoms the lush green branches tip off the teapot lid and reach for the ceiling.
The tree grows and fills the room. Among the branches sits an older, kindly-looking woman. Her dress is the green of the leaves, trimmed with elder flowers, and it's hard to tell whether it's a garment or part of the tree.
"Who is it?" whispers the boy.
"She is the Elder Tree Mother," answers the man. "A tree spirit, like the dryads of Greek and Roman tales. Now you must listen, and look at the beautiful Elder Tree."
Beneath an elder tree much like this one sit an old man and old woman, watching the evening sun. Their golden anniversary approaches yet they can't remember the date.
"Let's think about it," says the woman. "I remember when we were small, we played together as children."
"Yes," says the old man. "And when we went to school, we were friends and shared our childhood secrets, and spent many hot afternoons in the shade of the elder tree."
"And then," she says, "you had to go away to sea."
He nods. "I went to the lands were coffee grows."
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"I thought I would never see you again."
"I thought perhaps you had forgotten me."
"After a long wait," she says, "the postman brought me a letter from you. I was so happy tears fell from my eyes. And then, you surprised me."
He smiles. "I came up behind you while you were reading the letter."
"Yes, you frightened me but I was overjoyed. You made it back home just before your letter. You looked so handsome in your new suit."
"And you like an angel of light. And we married. Do you recall the day?"
She nods. "It was the day of my greatest happiness."
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"And our anniversary is ... " he shrugs and looks at her.
"I don't remember," she says and they both laugh.
The leaves of the elderberry tree dance in the breeze. Blossoms release a strong fragrance.
"We have five children," says the old man. "They're grown up now and they have children. We have held them all in our arms."
She smiles. "At least, I'm sure our wedding took place this time of year."
The Elder Tree Mother leans down from the branches above and whispers, "Today is your anniversary."
The old lady glances over at the fence where the neighbor was watering her garden, and assumes the voice came from her though she's gone now. The husband and wife look at each other and laugh.
"Today is our anniversary," says the man. The couple kiss beneath the elderberry tree.
Noise comes at the gate as their children and children's children show up, for they did not forget the day. They all eat and drink, and young ones play and doze as the adults talk of fond memories and the paths of life.
The storyteller sits back and the boy frowns in confusion. "But that's not a fairy tale."
The man nods. "You will understand soon enough. Let's ask the Elder Mother."
"That was no fairy tale," agrees the little elder-tree mother. "but listen now! Real life gives us subjects for the most amazing tales; otherwise my beautiful elder tree could not have grown out of the teapot."
She reaches down and picks up the boy, and takes him into her leafy home. The strong smell of elderberry flowers surrounds them and leaves and branches fold over them. The tree flies up through the air, taking them far from the mortal world.
The elder tree mother changes, and becomes a little girl with golden curls and bright eyes, the same age as the boy. She wears a garment like that of the elder mother, green as the elderberry leaves. Flowers adorn the dress and wind through her hair.
She takes his hand and they walk out of the elder tree. Before them is a house, with a large lawn and a walking stick at the gate. They sit upon the stick and it grows a horse's head with black mane and flashing eyes. Horse's legs and a flowing tail appear.
They gallop around and around the lawn, laughing with excitement. The boy is delighted. "We can ride for miles and miles!" he cries, and they seem to pass houses and countryside and villages where smiths labor and maidens spin threads at their wheels.
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They speed through history to the age of chivalry and times of Old Gods. Countless pictures flash through the mind of the boy. The seasons change from vibrant spring to lush summer, abundant fall and sparkling winter. All the time the horse gallops in a big circle on the lawn.
The boy becomes a young man. Soon he has to go away to sea and travel to distant places. When he leaves, the girl gives him a white elderberry flower from her hair, and he places it carefully between the pages of his prayer book to preserve its beauty.
In distant lands where the coffee grows, whenever he opens the book the flower brings back memories and feelings. The more he looks at the flower the fresher it becomes, so he can almost smell the scent of the woods back home.
He can see the little girl, bright eyes looking out from the blossoms, whispering, "Here it is beautiful in spring, summer, autumn and winter." Vivid recollections of the seasons passed through his mind.
Years go by. He marries and becomes an old man, and sits in the shade of the elder tree holding hands with his wife, as the old couple did long ago. They spoke of days gone by and shook their heads, as they have a golden anniversary coming up, but can't remember when.
Up above them in the elder tree, a little girl with golden hair and bright eyes giggles and whispers, "Today is your golden anniversary." She takes two flowers from her tresses and kisses them, and they glitter silver, then gold.
When she sets them upon the heads of the elderly couple the blossoms turn to golden crowns. They sit like king and queen, and kiss each other. The man remarks how much this elder tree seems to resemble one in a fairy tale told him as a boy.
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"Indeed it is," says the girl. "Some call me Elder Mother. Some call me a dryad, and I am those; but my real name is Remembrance. As the tree grows and grows, I see many things and hear many stories." She turns to the old man. "Do you still have your flower?"
The old man opens his prayer book. There is the elder flower, fresh as the day it was picked. The old people sit in the warm sun holding hands. And noise comes at the gate, for their children and children's children had not forgotten the day.
The story teller sits back in his chair. The little boy blinks his eyes. He feels dreamy, as if he's been to another world. The teapot is empty. His mother sits beside him.
"Mother," he says, "I've been to warm places."
She fluffs his pillow, pulls up his feather blanket and kisses his forehead. "It's not unusual to go to warm places," she says, "when one has a cup or two of elderberry blossom tea."
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She smooths back his hair. "You fell fast asleep while the old man and I argued over whether it was really a fairy tale."
"But what of the elder tree woman?" asks the boy.
"She's in the teapot," replies his mother with a smile, "and there she can stay."
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