The Harp

                There is a tale from many years ago, told and ever changing by the many generations who have added and taken from the original bed time story. I, however, am one of the few who know of the truth about this original legend.  

It all started when a king long ago had a hard time sleeping. Desperate, with no shut-eye for almost two weeks, the king called for help. A doctor was brought in and one day after another for almost a week the doctor tried everything he could think of. This included hypnosis, medicine, and meditation—but to no avail, the king continued his restless nights getting sleepier and sleepier although never actually falling asleep. Soon, the doctor grew desperate. There was one last thing the doctor wanted to try, although it was slightly unorthodox. You see, there was a witch in town. Most people were scared of her; however she was supposedly able to cure anything. At the mention of this the king sent servants to go and retrieve this witch. To assure the witch would come, the king offered her 10 golden galleons. This was not needed though, because although her appearance and magical abilities gave her a scary reputation, Belinda the witch was incredibly kind hearted.  Belinda eagerly arrived at the castle, ready to assist the king.  The king began to explain his dilemma. After his explanation, the witch frowned, “There is only one way I know to cure insomnia, if everything you have tried has already been proven to fail.” There was a hint of worry in her voice.  “Anything, please help me.” The king said, obviously on the verge of crying. The witch sighed,  “There is a harp deep in the forest that is believed to put anyone who hears it to sleep when played the right tune. To get to it one must travel through the forest and down the river until they see the bright glimmering gold. It is easy enough to get, but one must be careful. If the wrong notes are played whoever hears it will be cursed to sleep forever. I, however, know the chords. If someone goes to retrieve the harp, I would happily play you the song until you drift to sleep. One only needs to hear it once to be able to sleep normally again.” After taking a deep breath the king nodded. “I will send my son, Felipe. He is brave and wise enough not to play the harp.” The witch smiled, “So it is decided then.”

 Felipe was sent immediately. After two nights of traveling, he saw it. The gold shining in the sun and the strings gently humming from the wind. So it’s true, he thought, it’s really true. He paddled his way down the stream and pulled the boat to the side. After getting out of the boat he excitedly approached the magestical harp. After admiring its beauty, Felipe gently wrapped it in thick purple cloth and turned around to go back to the boat. Traveling back home was a rough journey, as Felipe had to carry the Harp through the forest after going back up stream. Felipe left he boat where Belinda had instructed him to, at the edge of the water, and continued his walk. Finally, two nights later, Felipe could see the promising view of the castle. Anxious to see his father in good health again, Felipe quickened his pace, his arms growing sore from carrying the large harp.
            As soon as Felipe walked into the castle, things started moving very fast. The harp was taken out of Felipe’s grasp, and they forced Felipe to go rest. Belinda, excited to see the harp, eagerly took the harp up to the king’s bedroom. The king got ready to sleep, and Belinda situated herself next to his bed, earplugs in, harp situated in front of her. The king closed his eyes and Belinda started to play the soft melody, and miraculously, the king started to drift to sleep.  After this moment, everything became a blur. Nobody remembers Belinda leaving, and the king had no recollection of ever seeing the harp. (Although his lack of memory was assumed to be because of his extended lack of sleep.) Prince Felipe never talked about the harp, and Belinda was never seen again. The harp disappeared. Some say it is back in the forest, safe within the shadows of the trees and the dense white fog; some say that it was destroyed after learning of its powerful abilities, and some even believe the son had such a connection with the harp that he stole it and had it hidden.
            Once again, I remind you that I know the true story. You see, I write this in my attic. As I sit in this wooden chair, across from me a small window. A small stream of light peaks through, as if the sun was putting its finger on the never faded gold uncovered by the deteriorating purple cloth. I get a shiver down my spine, and I hear my  maid call my name, “Belinda, you have a call!” Yes, it was I who helped the king. And yes, I am generally a kind hearted person. However, I decided to keep all of the powers the harp truly has to myself. For example, the harp’s owner is given eternal life. Or that the harp is used to help anyone who truly needs it—for good luck, for sleep, for love, and anything else that can be imagined. One only needs to know the right tune.