Changeling Child

by Heather Tisdale

Long ago and far away on the banks of the river Tywi, there lived a young widow and her infant son. The poor woman’s husband had drowned in the river when the boy was but a babe, and the child was all she had left in the world. They lived in the wild country of Wales, which was called Cymru in the language of the people who lived there. Cymru was a magical place. Caves were often inhabited by dragons, and the land was overrun by fairy folk, whom her son well, making sure to hang a nail above the Welsh called the tylwyth teg. These fairies the baby’s cot, for everyone knows that a fairy were famous for many things, but were known cannot touch iron. best for their beautiful music and their love of Years passed, and the boy grew bonny mischief. The tylwyth teg could play a tune and braf, his limbs sturdy and straight. With on a fiddle so sweet that it could charm the his sun-browned skin and hair the color of a legs off a man. You might think this made jackdaw’s wing, he was the very image of his them lovable rogues, but people feared the father. fairy folk. If the fairies saw a beautiful child, One summer evening, the widow was they might lure it away from its mother and cooking a pot of cawl over the fire when she leave a changeling in its place quicker than heard a splash and a shout. you could peel a potato. The widow guarded “Mother!” her boy cried out. “Help me!”

THE TYWI, PRONOUNCED TOW-EE, IS ONE TYLWYTH TEG IS PRONOUNCED Illustrated by Daniel Powers OF THE TWO LONGEST RIVERS IN WALES. TUL-OO-EETH-TEG. BRAF MEANS FINE. text © 2018 by Heather Tisdale, art © 2018 by Daniel Powers CYMRU IS PRONOUNCED COOM-REE. AND CAWL MEANS SOUP IN WELSH.

28 BACH IS AN ENDEARMENT. LIKE YOU, PUSS! IT MEANS LITTLE ONE.

The Tywi! Her son had fallen into the cawl on the fire and sliced the bara and but- BARA IS river! In the strong current, he would soon be tered it thickly. BREAD! swept out to sea. The boy ate heartily but never seemed to Quickly, she lifted the pot off the fire and be satisfied. “More!” he cried. “Give me more!” raced outside with the ladle still in her hand. “Griff!” she called. “Where are you, bach?” Early the next morning the woman There was no answer. She ran hither and left her cottage and went to see the wise man thither along the riverbank calling his name, who sat beneath Merlin’s Oak. She told him but the boy was nowhere to be found. At last, her sorry tale, and in turn he asked her one when the sun had set in the sky, she made her and twenty questions. Before he could help, way home with a heavy heart. Her child was he had to be sure that the child was really a lost. Her bonny, braf boy was gone. changeling. She opened the door to her cottage, and The wise man gave her a walnut and bade in little Griff’s chair sat a child. She stared her use it as a cooking pot. “Let the fellow see at the pale, sickly boy who looked nothing like her sturdy, nut- brown son. “You are not my Griff,” she said. “But I am, Mother. Do you not know your own son? Hurry up and heat the cawl, for I am starving. I feel as though I haven’t eaten in a week!” Although she knew in her heart it was a changeling, the fairy looked like a child, and she could not bring herself to let a child go hungry. Fighting back tears, she heated the LAVERBREAD IS A BREAD MADE WITH SEAWEED. IT’S A WIDDERSHINS MEANS DELICACY IN WALES. THE OTHER WAY.

what you are up to but don’t call his atten- “No question about it,” the wise man tion to it. With any luck, he will be puzzled said. “If he saw the acorn before it was an oak and ask what you are doing. If he does, you tree, then he must be at least three hundred must reply that you are making laverbread years old. He is definitely one of the tylwyth for the fishermen. If he truly is a changeling, teg. The fairy folk have taken your beauti- his curiosity may make him reveal himself to ful young boy and left you with one of their you. Bring me his reply on the morrow.” elders to care for.” The widow did as she was told, and “How can I get my boy back?” that day at the stroke of noon she cut “You must be brave, little mother, braver open the walnut and scooped out the nut- than you have ever been in all your days. Your meat. She held the shell in her left hand child’s life depends upon it. Are you willing?” and her spoon in her right, then stirred “I will do anything to save my Griff,” she six times clockwise and six times widder- replied. shins. She could feel the boy’s watery eyes The wise man handed her a pumpkin boring into her back. Again, she stirred seed and told her to plant it. “It will take round and round following the wise man’s a year and a day for the pumpkin to grow. instructions. Until then, you must treat the ancient one Eventually, the boy spoke up. “What as if he were your own son. The tylwyth teg are you doing there with that walnut shell, must not know that you suspect, or your son Mother?” will be lost forever.” Her heart hammered in her chest, but her As soon as she got home from Merlin’s voice remained calm. “I’m making laverbread Oak, the woman planted the seed in the for the fishermen,” she replied, keeping her sunniest part of the garden. Then, unable back to the boy. to control herself longer, she wept over the “Really?” Then the boy said dreamily: ground, watering it with her tears. I saw the acorn before it was the oak tree. The egg I saw before it became the hen. The leaves on the trees turned as But never have I seen laverbread cooked red as blood, and every day the woman In a walnut shell for the fishermen. woke the changeling with a cwtch and a kiss, even though his skin was as cold as The next morning the widow left the dead. her little cottage even before the sun was “When my Griff comes home,” she up and took the answer to the wise man at thought to herself,” he’ll be as warm as the Merlin’s Oak. fire.” But she quickly put those thoughts out CWTCH IS PRONOUNCED CUTCH, MEWY PURRR! AND MEANS A CUDDLE...

30 INSATIABLE MEANS IMPOSSIBLE TO SATISFY. of her head and gave the changeling child another hug. The snow fell and frosted the little cottage like a wedding cake, and still the woman baked the bread and sim- mered the soup to feed the changeling. Despite his insatiable appetite, the child never grew an inch. “When my Griff comes home, he’ll be taller and stronger.” But again she put the thought out of her head and ladled up another bowl of cawl. The grass greened up, and spring flowers poked their sleepy heads from beneath the soil. But the changeling seemed to grow uglier with each pass- ing day until he resembled a warty toad. He was forever getting into mischief. He hid a frog in the water jug, tied an old boot to the cat’s tail, and frightened the cows, which caused their milk to curdle. Everyone knows that the touch of a fairy will spoil the milk. “When my Griff comes home, he’ll be as handsome as his father once was,” the woman thought—then quickly stopped—as she combed the changeling’s hair and told him how handsome he looked.

After a year and a day, a fine pumpkin had grown upon the vine. The woman carried it into the kitchen, not drawing attention to herself, as the wise Moments later came a knock at the man had warned, but so that the changeling door. The woman ran to cast it wide open. could see. She placed it on the floor and went Outside stood a tall man with broad to fetch the axe. shoulders, salt-and-pepper hair, and silver The changeling child flew into a rage. in his beard. He looked so like her dead “Mother! Put down that axe! What do you husband that the widow mistook him for a think you are doing?” ghost. Then she burst into tears and threw The grieved mother looked him squarely her arms around her bonny Griff. in the eye and said, “Saving my son!” “Mother,” said her confused boy, who With one mighty blow, she split the pump- was now a man. “Why do you weep? I only kin in half. The changeling child shrieked and went down to the river for a few moments disappeared into a puff of smoke. to hear a fiddler play his tune.”