Chapter 12

I couldn't sleep, lying on my straw bed, thinking about the day's events. What struck me the most was how kind these people were. I wanted to be part of their life, but I was too scared, remembering how badly the villagers had treated me before. I decided to stay hidden in my hovel for now, watching the cottagers and trying to understand why they did what they did.

The next day, they got up before sunrise. The young woman cleaned the place and made food, and the young man left after breakfast.

That day went just like the one before. The young man worked outside, and the girl did hard work inside. The old man, who I realized was blind, spent his free time playing music or thinking. The love and respect the younger two showed him was beautiful. They took care of him with such kindness, and he thanked them with happy smiles.

But they weren't completely happy. The young man and woman often went aside to cry, and I couldn't figure out why. If these lovely people were unhappy, it made sense that I, being imperfect and alone, felt miserable too. But I couldn't understand why they were sad. They had a nice home, food, clothes, and each other's company. What were they missing?

After a while, I found out they were poor and struggled with not having enough food, especially in winter. This made me feel really sad for them, especially since I had been secretly taking some of their food for myself. So, I stopped and only ate berries, nuts, and roots from the forest.

I also found a way to help them by collecting firewood at night, which saved the young man from having to do it. The first time I left a big pile of wood for them, they were so surprised. They didn't go out for wood that day and instead fixed up their home and garden.

I also learned that they communicated through spoken words, which fascinated me. I wanted to learn their language, but it was hard because their speech was fast and didn't seem to connect to anything I could see. Over time, though, I learned a few words like "fire," "milk," "bread," and "wood," and even the names of the cottagers. Learning to say these words was a huge joy for me.

I spent the winter trying to learn their language because I loved their kindness and beauty. I felt sad when they were sad and happy when they were happy. Anyone else who came by seemed rude compared to them. The old man often tried to cheer up his children with hopeful talks, which seemed to help Agatha but not Felix as much.

Despite their struggles, they shared small joys, like Felix bringing the first spring flower to Agatha or making sure her path was clear of snow. I realized Felix sometimes worked for a neighbor to help out, but I never saw him bring wood back. Instead, he would read to the others, which confused me at first until I understood that reading was like talking but with symbols.

I wanted to understand reading and speaking more, hoping it might help me connect with them despite my scary appearance. Seeing myself in a pool, I was horrified at my reflection and realized the depth of my challenge.

As spring came, their situation improved. They had more food and seemed happier. I kept helping them secretly, hoping maybe, just maybe, I could make their lives better.

These thoughts and the beauty of spring lifted my spirits. I was determined to learn their language and somehow win their affection, despite my fears about how they might first react to seeing me.