I started reading Nelson Mandela's Favorite African Folktales today, and was inspired to write my own folktale. I loved how the folktales explain how things are the way they are, and after a drive today I came up with this. I hope you guys enjoy a modern folktale.


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Sycamore Wings

A Doe was walking through the forest one day when she heard quite a commotion. As she rounded a hill, she noticed several sycamore trees arguing with one another. The Doe tilted her head and asked, "What is the matter?"

The oldest of the Sycamores was the first to speak, "All I have ever wanted was some space, but my sons and daughters chose to grow too close to me. Now they take all the water and nutrients from the soil and leave me none!"

One of the younger Sycamores spoke here, "It wasn't our fault! When we dropped from our mother we had no where else to go but right here. There was no wind to carry us farther away, nor were there birds or animals to bury us far from here."

The Doe thought about this, and then said, "I will help, but I do not want any more arguing from you!", and she left for a moment. The doe went deep into the forest where she found an old pond. Here lived Dragonfly, who was buzzing and skirting the pond happily. "Hello there, Dragonfly, may I speak with you?"

The Dragonfly flew to her and landed on her nose. "Hello there Doe! It has been years since we've spoken. How have you been?", Dragonfly asked. The Doe sighed, "I am fine, but I feel bad for the Sycamore trees. They cannot fly far and fast as you do, and argue with one another all their lives."

Dragonfly thought about this, "I see, I see. Let me come with you to see these Sycamore trees. I may have a solution."

So the Doe took the Dragonfly to the Sycamore trees, who were patient but so eager to argue with one another. Dragonfly flew and studied their seeds with interest, noticing that they were small and dropped like stones. He then spoke to the Sycamore trees, "I have seen your seeds and have a solution. I will offer my life and my wings so that your seeds will fly far from the parent, so that you may live old and happy lives."

And in that moment, the Dragonfly died, and at the same time the Sycamore's seeds grew wings. When they dropped, they fluttered and spun away, so they would grow and be happy just like their parents. The selfless Dragonfly in return lost the years of his life, so that his kin only would live a short while, but would see how happy the Sycamore trees were and thus lived a happy life himself. The wings of the dead Dragonflies became the wings of the Sycamore seeds.