In the times of knights and kings, there was a man named Jonas. Jonas was an artist, and painted pictures to support his family. One day he sat down to paint and found that he had lost his artistic talent. When he discovered this, he jumped on his horse and rode off across town as quickly as he could.
He rode past all of the shacks and homes and markets, past all of the people in the streets. He rode all the way out of town, past all of the fences and into the forest. Jonas’ horse ran through the woods, following a narrow dirt path. Jonas stopped the horse when they had reached an old, wooden hut, and climbed down from the horse’s back.
He entered the dim hut and spoke to a seated figure.
“Witch, I need your help,” Jonas said.
She stood up slowly, her old bones creaking as she straightened her hunched back.
“You’ve lost something.”
Jonas was surprised. “How do you know that?”
The witch laughed softly. “I know more than you think, my dear. Now tell me. What is it you seek to gain again?”
“It is my trade. I am a painter, and I can no longer paint. The ability is gone.”
The witch stroked her chin with her long, thin fingers. After a few moments she replied.
“You will need to seek out an item. A flower, to be exact. Once you have found it, return to me with it and I will be able to bring your skills back.”
The witch told Jonas where he would find the flower, and sent him off.
It was a long and hard journey, but Jonas found the flower where the witch had told him he would. Jonas made sure the flower wouldn’t get damaged on the return trip.
Jonas returned and entered the witch’s hut. He found her seated as before. He held up his hand, showing the witch that he had come back with the flower.
“You’re back sooner than I had expected,” the witch said. She stood up and looked over the flower. “This is the one, surely.”
“How will this help me, witch? Must you cast a spell, or brew a potion?” Jonas asked.
“No, no. You see, it’s not about the flower. It was about the journey, the effort. You dedicated yourself to finding this flower, and you did. All you need to do is put that same effort into your painting, you see. And I know you can, because you’ve just proved that you can by finding this flower.”
The witch took the flower from Jonas. “Do you understand now?”
Jonas slowly began to smile. “Yes, witch, I do. How can I thank you?”
She held up the flower. “How about this? I hear it goes nicely with tea.” The witch grinned.
Jonas thanked the witch and departed. He got on his horse and rode back into town, past the markets and houses and shacks, and back to his home. He went inside and painted once again, now having a new hope in his success.
