Finally the winter gave way to spring. Futile though it may have seemed, Emily's father once again had the girls in the potato rows, planting the few seed potatoes they'd saved from last year. But there was no guarantee the blight wouldn't be back, destroying the potato crops for a second year.
Each day as she worked, Emily looked for signs of the primroses. She knew as soon as they bloomed, her great challenge would face her. She could ignore it but by doing so she would surely condemn her entire family to death in the coming winter.
By early May, the breezes had swept away from the sea and were coming up from the south, warming the land and greening the grass. Things were blooming everywhere you looked--harebells and foxglove, comus and columbine. And finally one day about the second week of May, the primroses began to bloom. Emily spotted them first thing that morning when she went to draw water from the well as her mother had asked. Fear beat in her small heart for she knew that evening would bring her greatest test. She must do something to save her family even if she risked her own death to do it.
All day she wished her grandmother O'Houllihan was still alive. Grandmother knew all things about Irish legends and folklore, including faeries. She knew how to trick them and beat them at their own games. You see faeries--even good ones-- were mischievous, always playing tricks on humans like hiding things in your house and making you look for hours to find them. But some faeries were evil and bad. They were jealous of humans because humans had hearts and could feel things like love and joy. Evil faeries had no hearts and could feel nothing. So they took it out on humans. Tea Rose had said she was a good faerie and, indeed, she seemed to be. But no faerie--even the good ones--merely gave away their faerie treasure. Humans had to earn it, often at considerable risk.
All day long, Emily walked around the mushroom ring, looking at the stone in the center. Grandmother told her this particular faerie ring had been here for more than six hundred years so Emily knew it had great power. She'd have to make the correct choice the first time. There'd be no second chance.
Numbers popped in and out of Emily's head. She prayed to the Virgin Mary to give her the correct number but so many of them ran through her brain, she couldn't keep them straight. She counted the number of mushrooms in the ring, thinking maybe that was the clue, but there were too many of them--108 to be exact. And Tea Rose had referred to a poesy--a small bouquet made up of a few flowers, not a great floral bouquet such as 108 primroses would create.
Soon, all too soon, the sun was sitting on the far western horizon and Emily knew it was time. Nine. Nine was the number she'd settled on. She didn't know why. Maybe her prayer had been answered but whatever, it would be nine or none. She moved to a patch of primroses and knelt among them.
Emily's hand trembled as she picked the first few blooms. The delicate pink blossoms filled the warm spring air with a tangy fragrance that made Emily a little heady. She lifted the flowers to her nose and inhaled their sweet aroma. They smelled so good that she thought she could eat them and they'd taste just like a sweet treat from the apothecary shop in the village.
If I am to die tonight, she thought, at least I can die with a sweet taste in my mouth. Emily nibbled at a petal of the primrose. It had the taste of a sweet perfume.
As she chewed it and swallowed, some faint movement caught her eye. It was near the faerie ring. She peered through the failing light but could see nothing distinct--just what appeared to be a few hazy blurs darting in and out of the mushrooms. She turned her attention back to the primroses and ate a few more petals.
As she swallowed them, more blurs of faint light began to appear in and around the faerie ring. She also began to hear sounds like tiny voices and wee bursts of laughter. I must be losing my mind, she thought to herself. She took another bite of primroses. Suddenly what had been blurs of bluish light and faint sounds now became distinct to Emily in the last light of day. She was seeing the faeries who lived in the faerie ring. She heard their voices and watched them dart here and there, in and out of the ring. It was the primroses. Eating the primroses enabled her to see the faeries! Of course! How could she have forgotten? Her grandmother had told her years ago:If you eat the bloom of the primrose, the faeries will become visible.
Emily began to form a plan. She ate about a half dozen more blooms then picked nine blossoms and with a ribbon she wore only when she went to Sunday mass, she wove them into a small poesy. Rising, she turned and walked towards the faerie ring, pretending she couldn't see or hear the little people. The faeries saw her coming and grew very excited. They knew what was to happen that night.
As Emily entered the ring of mushrooms, her heart was beating so fast she could hear it in her ears. Faeries rushed up to meet her, flying about her head and darting in front of her, hovering at eye level to get a good look at her. It was hard for her to ignore them, they were so close. She walked with a steady determination towards the rock at the center of the ring.
As Emily approached the rock, all the faeries settled to the ground in a circle around her. Emily knelt down and stared at the rock as she held the poesy of primroses in her hand. "I am here to claim your treasure, Tea Rose."
From all around her a chorus of tiny giggles arose from the crowd of faeries. They could see she had the wrong number of blooms in her poesy.
Emily raised the poesy in preparation to strike the rock and said once again, "I am here to claim your treasure, Tea Rose." Again she heard the chorus of giggles coming from all around her.
From among the circle of faeries, one rose on a hum of gossamer wings. It was Tea Rose. She floated towards the rock, hovered above it for a moment and then landed on it as lightly as a breath upon the cheek. Emily pretended not to see her. She raised the hand holding the primroses higher and higher, preparing to strike the rock. Tea Rose's eyes were fixed on the poesy of flowers.
Suddenly Emily swooped her other hand across the rock capturing the little faerie. The circle of faeries gasped and went silent. Raising the little creature to the level of her eyes Emily said, "I have you now, Tea Rose. You must tell me the correct number of primroses to unlock the treasure. You cannot refuse me."
Tea Rose struggled to free herself from Emily's grasp but could not. "All right," she said finally, "I'll tell you. But you still must guess the correct number."
"What do you mean? I've captured you. You must tell me. You must," insisted Emily.
"I will, but the answer will be in the form of a riddle. The rest is up to you."
"Tell me," demanded Emily.
Tea Rose cleared her tiny throat and said in a loud, sing-song voice:
"Know the quarters from where the winds blow;
And right will be the number of primrose."
Emily lowered Tea Rose to the grass beside the rock and began to think. The quarters from where the winds blow. What did the wind have to do with the number of primroses? Mary and Joseph, help me! she prayed. Her brain was racked trying to discover the meaning of the riddle.
"I can only give you one-half more minutes," warned Tea Rose. "If you do not have the correct number, you will perish and the treasure will be lost to you forever." Hushed murmurings passed through the circle of faeries as they sat by excitedly, awaiting the outcome of the spectacle.
Thinking as hard as she could, Emily could come up with nothing. Nothing. The quarters of the wind? The quarters of the wind? Then, a light flashed in her mind. The quarters of the wind. The four quarters of the wind--the four directions from which it blew: North, East, South and West. Four. FOUR was the number. She was sure of it.
Emily took her poesy and pulled out five blooms from the nine, leaving her only four.
"I think I have it now, Tea Rose. I think I've solved your riddle."
"Try it then, Emily. Strike the rock three times with the primroses and see what happens."
Emily's hand trembled as she touched the rock the first time. It trembled even harder when she touched it the second time. Then she paused. If she was right, her family was saved. If she was wrong, the faeries would send her to a terrible death and her family would starve. But four. She was sure the number was four. She prepared to strike the rock for the third and final time.
Wait, she thought. Doesn't the wind sometimes blow from the northeast or southwest, too? Could the number be five, or even six? But it was too late now. Tea Rose had said "quarters" and Emily believed that a quarter was one part of four. If she was wrong, may God have mercy on her and forgive her sins. She raised the poesy one last time above the rock. The faeries had grown silent again, all eyes on the human with the poesy of primroses. Slowly, Emily lowered it until it touched the top of the stone.
A bright blue light appeared beneath the stone and the ground began to shake. The faeries all flew from the places where they'd sat and hovered near the mushrooms at the edge of the ring. I am lost, thought Emily. I guessed the wrong number of primroses and now I am lost. Mary and St. Patrick help me!
As she watched still kneeling by the stone, Emily saw the rock begin to crack in a thousand spider web-like fissures. The light beneath it turned from blue to gold and the ground began to shake harder. All of a sudden the stone flew into a million tiny pieces in all directions except towards Emily. It left a large hole in the ground beaming with the brightest light the girl had ever seen. It hurt her eyes to look at it so she shut them tight and bent forward until her forehead touched the ground.
Finally the shaking stopped and the light faded to a misty glow hanging just above the ground. Emily heard a buzzing in her ears and slowly lifted her head as she opened her eyes, expecting to see the pearly gates of Heaven. But instead, she was still in the faerie ring and the buzzing in her ear was the hum of Tea Rose's wings.
"Congratulations," said Tea Rose in her tiny voice. "You guessed the correct number of primroses and now I must give up my treasure."
Emily could hardly believe her ears and then once Tea Rose pointed towards the hole in the center of the ring, she could hardly believe her eyes, for there was a treasure in gold worthy of any King or Queen of Europe.
"Take it and be gone with you," said Tea Rose. "Get your family out of here and to safety. It's what God wants for you."
"Thank you, Tea Rose. I'll never forget you for this."
Emily's family never learned the truth behind the gold treasure she presented them that Spring. She told them she found it behind an old rock near the potato rows. But they used it wisely. They bought food and the family slowly recovered from the ravages of starvation. Even Diedre recovered completely having been very near death the previous winter. But they didn't stop there.
They had more gold than they needed to get to America to start a new life so they purchased a large store of wheat, cornmeal and beans for their village. In addition, they saw to it that every family had a cow or two for milk and calves. The people of the village never forgot Emily's family for their kindness which undoubtedly saved many lives during the great Irish potato famine.
Shamus took his three surviving daughters and their mother to Liverpool in England. There they booked passage on a boat headed to New Orleans and the cousins they had living there.
Emily loved her new life in the new land and did well. She studied hard at school and went on to become one of the first female doctors in the history of the United States. She never forgot her poor beginnings or how close she came to losing her entire family. For many years she treated the poor Irish of New Orleans to the best medical care she could provide and charged them nothing for her services. Many, many Irish named their first-born female children, "Emily."
When she died at the age of 91 in 1928, she left behind seven children, twenty grandchildren and
more great-grandchildren than you could count in a week. She never had that great hall filled
with fine toys and foods because she gave most of her time and her money to the poor. But when
she arrived at Heaven's pearly gates, she was greeted by her favorite sister, Colleen and it was as
if no time at all had passed. For they were children again, playing and tumbling down the emerald
hills of old Ireland. And they never knew a hunger pain again.
© 1996 by Jon S. Crane