The Sleeping Beauty Spell

The Sandman’s Fairy Tale

No one in the world knows as many stories as the Sandman. In Denmark, he is called Ole Lukøje. Yes, that’s right! If a god tells a story, it can be mesmerizing.

In the evening, when the children are still sitting around the table, the Sandman arrives. He tiptoes and takes off his shoes, quietly climbs the stairs, opens the door slightly, and, whoosh, he throws sand into the children’s eyes, a very fine sand. So the children are darkened in the face, and they cannot see him. He sneaks up behind them and blows lightly on their necks. So their heads become heavy, and they are drowsy.

When the children are asleep, the god sits on their bed. He wears a beautiful silk dress, and it is not clear what color it is because the dress changes color from time to time: dark blue, dark red, or light green.

Each of his hands holds an umbrella.

The inside of one of the two umbrellas is painted with beautiful pictures, which the god covers for well-behaved children so that they can dream of interesting things. And the other umbrella is blank, used for naughty children, whose sleep will be heavy, and they will not dream of anything, and when they wake up, their heads will still be heavy.

Below, I tell the stories that the Sandman, who visited the boy Igianma every night for a week, told him.

Monday

“Attention!” said the Sandman to Igianma after putting the boy to bed. “I will transform everything in this room!”

In the blink of an eye, all the potted plants turned into large trees, with lush branches reaching up to the ceiling. The room turned into a glass greenhouse. The branches were full of fragrant flowers, more beautiful than roses. The flowers were edible, tastier than the best jam. The fruits of the trees sparkled like real gold. There were also cakes on the trees, covered with grape jam.

But at that moment, there was a pitiful moan from Igianma’s drawer, where he kept his books and stationery.

“What’s that?” the Sandman walked to the table and asked.

He opened the drawer. The slate was moaning and complaining. There was a riddle on the slate, with one wrong answer, so the answer was also wrong. The chalk, tied to the slate with a string, jumped and danced like a goblin, wanting to correct the riddle but couldn’t.

There was also a moan from Igianma’s exercise book. In the book, on each page, there were capital and lowercase letters written by the teacher as a model. Under each line were Igianma’s letters, trying to look like the model but failing miserably.

“Look at me!” said the model letters. “Slightly tilted and elegant!”

Igianma’s letters replied:

“Oh, we want to, but we are too weak to lift our heads.”

The Sandman said:

“Well, then I will sprinkle some baby powder on you.”

“No! No!” the letters cried and straightened up immediately, looking beautiful.

“Today I won’t tell you a story!” the Sandman said to Igianma. “I have to teach your letters a workout first. One, two! One, two!”

The letters exercised following the Sandman’s commands and finally stood straight like the model letters.

However, the next morning, when the Sandman left, Igianma opened his exercise book, and his letters were still messy and ugly.

Tuesday

As soon as Igianma got into bed, the Sandman sprinkled magical powder on all the objects in the room. Suddenly, they started talking noisily, except for the spittoon, which kept quiet, angry at being ignored in the corner.

There was a framed landscape painting on top of a chest of drawers. The painting depicted ancient trees, grass, flowering trees, a river flowing through the forest, passing many castles, and flowing into the sea.

The Sandman sprinkled some powder on the painting. So the birds in the picture sang cheerfully, the tree branches rustled in the wind, and the clouds floated and cast shadows on the painting.

Then the Sandman put the boy into the picture, on the grass.

The sun shone brightly, sparkling through the tall trees. Igianma ran along the riverbank and climbed onto a white and red boat docked nearby. The sails looked like silver, and the swans, with blue stars on their necks, pulled the boat out of the green garden, where the trees told stories of robbers and ghosts and what the butterflies had told them.

Golden and silver fish swam alongside the boat. Birds of all sizes and colors, red and blue, followed in two long lines. Flies and beetles buzzed. All the birds and insects wanted to follow Igianma and tell him stories.

What an exciting journey! Sometimes the forest was dense and quiet, and sometimes it looked like a sunny garden full of flowers and strange plants; there were also castles made of granite and crystal, taller than the treetops.

There was a princess on the balcony of a castle, a little girl whom Igianma knew well. They used to play together when they were younger. They waved to each other and held hands, and the princess gave him a pig-shaped candy that couldn’t be found in any candy store. When the boat passed the balcony, Igianma reached out to take the candy, but it broke in half, and each took one piece. Igianma’s piece was bigger.

In front of the castle stood tiny princes guarding the entrance. They saluted Igianma with their swords and threw him clusters of grapes and tin soldiers.

Sometimes Igianma walked through the forest, and sometimes he walked through large rooms and cities. Suddenly he came to the province where his beloved nanny, who took care of him when he was little, lived. She waved and nodded to him and sang the songs she composed herself:

Oh Igianma

My beloved little one

Whom I used to carry and kiss

Now you’ve grown up so much.

Hold my hand

Before I leave

I pray to God

To bless Igianma.

Meanwhile, the birds sang, the flowers danced on the branches, and the ancient trees also bent down to listen to the Sandman’s stories.

Wednesday

It was raining heavily, and Igianma could hear the rain even in his sleep. When the Sandman opened a window, the rain almost touched the windowsill.

Outside was a lake and a magnificent boat in front of the house.

“Igianma, do you want to come with me? Tonight I will visit some countries, and I will be back tomorrow morning,” said the Sandman.

In the blink of an eye, Igianma was wearing his Sunday clothes and stepping onto the boat. The rain had stopped. The boat sailed through the streets and circled the church. In front of them was the vast sea.

They sailed far away, out of sight of the land. They saw a flock of storks leaving their nests and flying to warmer lands. They flew in a line, and soon they were out of sight, but one stork was too weak and couldn’t keep up with the flock. It was the last stork in the line. Its wings were not strong enough to carry its body, and it fell onto the boat. Its feet clung to the sail, and it tried to climb up, but in vain, it fell onto the deck.

A sailor on the boat caught the stork and put it in the chicken coop with the ducks, geese, and turkeys. The poor stork stood there awkwardly.

“Where did you come from?” asked the hens.

A rooster, puffing out its chest and fluffing its feathers, asked the stork who it was.

The ducks crowded and quacked: “Quack! Quack! Quack!”

The stork told them about the hot Africa, the pyramids, and the ostriches running wild on the vast grasslands like wild horses. But the ducks didn’t understand a word. They pecked each other and whispered:

“I think this one is stupid. Do you agree?”

The stork kept quiet, dreaming of its beautiful Africa.

“Hey, you have great legs! How much per centimeter?” asked the rooster.

“Quack! Quack! Quack!” the ducks quacked, but the stork pretended not to hear.

The rooster continued:

“At least you should smile because my joke was quite funny! But maybe it was too profound for you.”

The rooster thought to itself:

“Maybe it’s really stupid. Never mind, we, the enlightened ones, will play among ourselves.”

The rooster crowed, and the ducks quacked noisily, but they enjoyed themselves.

Igianma walked to the chicken coop, opened the door, and set the stork free. The stork, after resting and regaining its strength, bowed to the boy who had freed it. Then it spread its wings and flew back to the warm lands. Seeing this, the hens clucked, the ducks quacked, and the rooster turned red with anger.

Igianma said to them:

“Tomorrow you will all be slaughtered and served on the dining table!”

At that moment, Igianma suddenly woke up and found himself lying in bed. What a wonderful journey he had with the Sandman!

Thursday

“Wait a minute! Don’t be afraid. I will show you a mouse,” said the Sandman.

He held a tiny mouse in the palm of his hand.

“The mouse invites you to its wedding tonight, held under the kitchen floor. It seems splendid down there.”

Igianma asked:

“But how can I get through the small hole in the floor to go downstairs?”

The Sandman replied:

“Don’t worry, I will take care of that. I will sprinkle some powder on you, and you will shrink.”

So Igianma shrank until he was the size of a finger.

“Now you can borrow the tin soldier’s clothes. They will fit you perfectly. It’s cool to wear a uniform to a wedding.”

“Hooray!” Igianma cheered.

And in the blink of an eye, he was wearing the tin soldier’s uniform.

The mouse politely said:

“Please sit on my grandmother’s sled so I can have the honor of pulling you.”

“Thank you so much!” Igianma replied politely.

And so they went to the mouse wedding.

At first, they crawled downstairs, along a long and low corridor, just high enough for the sled, with luminous wood chips on both sides, lighting the way.

“Wonderful! The corridor is greased! It smells so good!” exclaimed the mouse.

Finally, they arrived at the wedding hall, where female mice were chatting noisily. On the left, male mice were stroking their mustaches with their front legs. In the middle was the bride and groom, sitting on a piece of cheese and kissing in front of the guests. Since they were engaged and about to get married, no one minded their public display of affection.

More guests kept arriving. The bride and groom sat right in front of the entrance. The wedding hall was also greased like the corridor, and it smelled fatty.

For dessert, the host brought out a pea with the couple’s names carved on it by the groom with his teeth. It was a work of art.

All the mice thought the wedding was fantastic.

Igianma happily returned home, although he had to shrink and wear the tin soldier’s uniform.

Friday

“Strange! Many people, especially the elderly and those who have done wrong, often ask me: ‘Dear friend, we can’t fall asleep at night. Our sins appear before us like little devils, spitting boiling water on us. Please make them go away so we can sleep.’ They sigh and continue: ‘You can take as much money as you want; it’s by the window.’ I reply: ‘Unfortunately, what I do is not for money.’

Igianma asked:

“What will we do tonight?”

“Do you want to go to another wedding? This one is different from yesterday’s. It’s your sister’s big doll, which looks like a boy, and your sister named it Hecman. Today is also Hecman’s birthday. He is getting married to another doll, Bectơ.”

“Yes, I know. Every time my sister’s dolls get new clothes, she says they are getting married or celebrating their birthday. It must be the hundredth time already.”

“Indeed, this is the hundred and eleventh wedding, and it will be fun. Let’s go.”

Igianma looked at the table and saw a lit dollhouse. In front of the entrance stood the tin soldiers with their guns. The bride and groom sat quietly, looking at the table edge. The Sandman, wearing Igianma’s grandmother’s black cloak, performed the wedding ceremony for them.

There were many gifts, but no food because the bride and groom had more than enough to eat.

The groom asked the bride:

“Will we go to the countryside or travel abroad this summer?”

They asked the swallow, who had traveled all over the world, and the hen, who had hatched five clutches of eggs. The swallow described the beautiful landscapes of warm lands. There, the climate was mild, and the mountains shone in various colors. It was indeed beautiful.

The hen replied:

“But there are no curly cabbage leaves like the ones in my hometown. I spent a summer there with my chicks. There was a large sandpit for us to play in, and a garden full of curly cabbage leaves, so green! Nowhere else has such beautiful scenery!”

“Cabbage is the same everywhere. But the weather is always bad in the countryside; it’s not fun,” said the swallow.

“Oh well! You get used to it,” said the hen.

“It’s cold there, and it snows; it’s not fun,” said the swallow.

“Yes, but the cabbage curls in the cold!” the hen continued.

“I’ve traveled too. Once I traveled two miles in a box. Traveling is not fun at all,” said the hen.

“The hen is right,” said Bectơ. “I don’t like climbing mountains; it’s just up and down all day. I’d rather play on the sandpit and in the curly cabbage garden.”

No one else had any other opinions.

Saturday

“God, tell me a story,” Igianma said to the Sandman as he put him to bed.

“I don’t have time tonight,” the Sandman said, opening his umbrella.

“Your umbrella has beautiful pictures!” Igianma exclaimed.

Indeed. The umbrella looked like a large hood with paintings of blue trees, Chinese-style bridges with pointed roofs, and children on the bridges, their heads bobbing continuously.

“I will decorate the whole world,” said the Sandman. “Tomorrow is Sunday, a holiday. I have to climb up the bell tower to see if the gnomes in the church have polished the bells yet so they can ring them tomorrow. I also have to go to the fields to see if the wind has blown away the dust on the leaves and grass. But the most challenging task is to pull down the stars in the sky to clean them. I will put them in aprons, but I have to number the stars so I can put them back in their places, or else too many stars will change positions, and eventually, they will all fall.”

A portrait hanging on the wall by Igianma’s bed spoke