Originally published in a fanzine, I thought to share this fictional story with my readers as it relates to both gratitude and America's start. It's not a "Thanksgiving" story, but it does start in the winter of 1777...
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Favor Returned
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Favor Returned
20 December 1777 - We finally reached our winter camp at Valley Forge yesterday. It's defensible and almost pretty with the fresh blanket of snow. I've been assigned to help build the huts, which gives me a chance to wander into the woodlands for building supplies. It's not soon enough, though. The tent leaves me chilled to the bone as my bedroll and clothes are threadbare. While I was in the woods gathering logs yesterday, I spied something. The snowfall made it difficult to see and when I turned my head, all I saw was a flash of something. The figure was too small for a man, but not like any of the fauna I've seen in Pennsylvania before.
21 December 1777 - Some of the men in my regiment also saw the strange beings in the woods. We discussed it around the fire last night and debated whether the wee people were in America as well as back home in our dear Ireland. When the last of the milk rations were distributed, we decided to follow an old Irish tradition. We each set aside a portion of our milk in one tin. Then later we brought the tin into the woods at twilight. Of course, we all hid ourselves to watch like a pack of young lads. And surein' they came! I don't have the words to describe what emerged from some shadowed pocket of the woods. The details were hard to made out for we only saw their silhouettes against the purple/red western sky. But we could definitely tell that they all wore clothes and walked on two legs. They passed the milk tin from one to another and each drank in turn. Even in America, these wee people seemed both similar and so different from us.
22 December 1777 - We found the wee people's footprints in the snow when we returned to the woods. They were not a dream. We agreed then to keep setting aside a portion of whatever rations we had to share with them.
15 January 1778 - My stomach hurts something terrible from the hunger, and my bones ache with cold. Many of the men in my hut developed a rattling, tearing cough and fever. Many are sick in the camp now; foraging and hunting fill my days. Surein' there's a little food left for the wee people with so many camped here. I keep leaving some firecake out for them each night. I don't have time to wait and watch anymore; we have to keep watch that the Torries aren't sneaking up on us.
21 January 1778 - I hear supplies may arrive from Congress soon. The rations are even poorer with so many of us quarantined. Doc says everyone in my hut has "new-mone-ya." I've got a fever, but my cough isn't that bad yet. I can't stomach any more firecakes and the icy water makes my stomach cramp.
29 January 1778 - I dreamed that wee people came into our hut last night. They made us drink some warm broth by the light of the candles they brought. It was bitter and hard to stomach, like the herbs my grandmother gave me when I was sick. It was strange being tended by these folk that acted like men, kind and gentle, yet seemed so strange. Though none of them spoke to us in English, their smiles were warm. Then they stripped us carefully of our nightshirts and bedrolls and placed us in finer, warmer ones. We slept wonderfully well then.
30 January 1778 - They visited again last night, all the wee people. One was female with hands soft and warm when she touched my forehead and pulled back my hair. She was dressed similar to the way our women do. The others were dressed in clothing akin to that which our men wear, wrapped up snugly for warmth. Their eyes shone bright in the candlelight and their skin, where visible, shone like the moon. They quickly and firmly returned us to our original clothes and bedrolls - both cleaned and repaired during the interim. Then we were fed more broth with some potato and peas. There was also honey-sweetened tea. It made me feel a bit stronger and eased my fever and the weight on my chest. I don't think I've ever slept better that night.
12 February 1778 - Doc finally let us break quarantine and leave the hut. I can't believe how many people are gone. Many left, many more died, some are still out foraging. But I'm not as surprised as Doc. He says he can't figure out how we all recovered so well and so quickly - let alone survived - when so many others died. The men in my hut believe my story; some even remember seeing them too. But many others tell me it was just a fever dream.
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- ESA
21 December 1777 - Some of the men in my regiment also saw the strange beings in the woods. We discussed it around the fire last night and debated whether the wee people were in America as well as back home in our dear Ireland. When the last of the milk rations were distributed, we decided to follow an old Irish tradition. We each set aside a portion of our milk in one tin. Then later we brought the tin into the woods at twilight. Of course, we all hid ourselves to watch like a pack of young lads. And surein' they came! I don't have the words to describe what emerged from some shadowed pocket of the woods. The details were hard to made out for we only saw their silhouettes against the purple/red western sky. But we could definitely tell that they all wore clothes and walked on two legs. They passed the milk tin from one to another and each drank in turn. Even in America, these wee people seemed both similar and so different from us.
22 December 1777 - We found the wee people's footprints in the snow when we returned to the woods. They were not a dream. We agreed then to keep setting aside a portion of whatever rations we had to share with them.
15 January 1778 - My stomach hurts something terrible from the hunger, and my bones ache with cold. Many of the men in my hut developed a rattling, tearing cough and fever. Many are sick in the camp now; foraging and hunting fill my days. Surein' there's a little food left for the wee people with so many camped here. I keep leaving some firecake out for them each night. I don't have time to wait and watch anymore; we have to keep watch that the Torries aren't sneaking up on us.
21 January 1778 - I hear supplies may arrive from Congress soon. The rations are even poorer with so many of us quarantined. Doc says everyone in my hut has "new-mone-ya." I've got a fever, but my cough isn't that bad yet. I can't stomach any more firecakes and the icy water makes my stomach cramp.
29 January 1778 - I dreamed that wee people came into our hut last night. They made us drink some warm broth by the light of the candles they brought. It was bitter and hard to stomach, like the herbs my grandmother gave me when I was sick. It was strange being tended by these folk that acted like men, kind and gentle, yet seemed so strange. Though none of them spoke to us in English, their smiles were warm. Then they stripped us carefully of our nightshirts and bedrolls and placed us in finer, warmer ones. We slept wonderfully well then.
30 January 1778 - They visited again last night, all the wee people. One was female with hands soft and warm when she touched my forehead and pulled back my hair. She was dressed similar to the way our women do. The others were dressed in clothing akin to that which our men wear, wrapped up snugly for warmth. Their eyes shone bright in the candlelight and their skin, where visible, shone like the moon. They quickly and firmly returned us to our original clothes and bedrolls - both cleaned and repaired during the interim. Then we were fed more broth with some potato and peas. There was also honey-sweetened tea. It made me feel a bit stronger and eased my fever and the weight on my chest. I don't think I've ever slept better that night.
12 February 1778 - Doc finally let us break quarantine and leave the hut. I can't believe how many people are gone. Many left, many more died, some are still out foraging. But I'm not as surprised as Doc. He says he can't figure out how we all recovered so well and so quickly - let alone survived - when so many others died. The men in my hut believe my story; some even remember seeing them too. But many others tell me it was just a fever dream.
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- ESA
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