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Updated: June 2, 2025
Ivra ran right out into the foam brought in by the breakers, up to her waist, where she splashed the water with her palms until her hair and face were drenched with salt spray. Helma stood looking away to foreign countries which she could almost see. But they were not left long to themselves.
"Why, then he will see Helma somewhere!" cried Eric. Ivra sprang from her bed. "Eric, how splendid! We must go with him! Why didn't I think of it at the very first!" They did not stop for breakfast, but were into their coats and ready for the day's search in a twinkling. Neither of them had bothered to undress the night before. Ivra's hair had gone unbrushed for two days.
Eric's wavered a little uncertainly, as though he doubted whether Helma knew it well enough to answer. "Helma, Helma, Helma! Ohh Helma! Helmaa-a!" No Helma answered. Sometimes a Forest Child came running to say, "We haven't seen her yet, Ivra. But we are watching." The Bird Fairies fluttered at the call and nodded their little heads uneasily.
"Why, better than that, you might tell them yourself. Would you like that?" "Oh, yes if I can. Do you suppose I can, mother Helma? I shall begin at the very beginning, way back before men were in the world at all, or fairies even. He'd like to hear about the big animals. And you will listen, mother, to see that I get it all right?"
As he went out through the forest, flowers and green grass followed him and the next morning even the dullest Earth Person would know that Spring had come. As for Helma and Ivra and Eric, the house would not hold their joy, and so they dragged out their beds and slept that night in the new-plowed, sweet-smelling garden.
Where he walked the earth sprang up in green grass after his bare feet, and flowers followed him like a procession. Helma ran to him, swifter than the children, and he kissed her lips. He lifted Ivra nigh on his shoulder for one minute where she thought she looked away over the treetops hundreds of miles to the blue ocean.
"Vair nice gentlemans, Meester Creeton," whispers Helma. "I know," says I; "you're judgin' by the hat." She springs that silly grin of hers, as usual. No matter what I say, it gets open-faced motions out of Helma. But I really wasn't feelin' so humorous.
The moon was behind us and the Brunhilda was like a swanboat sailing down with the moonlight sending her, ja. "I heard my Freda say: 'I see a nisse coming down the track of the moon. And I hear her mother laugh, low, like a mother does when her Yndling dreams. I was happy that night with my Helma and my Freda, and the Brunhilda sailing like a swan-boat, ja.
The wings of the Wind Creatures on the top of the wall rustled just then in a gust of cold north wind. Helma threw up her head as at a familiar sound, and her eyes slowly lifted to the faces of the children looking down. For a minute she looked steadily at them without believing, and then it was as though her pale face suddenly burst into song.
Eric did feel it. For there was magic in the day. The magic came to him in the air, in the smell of the earth, in the new warm wind and said, "Everything is yours that you want. Joy is coming." And Mother Helma was what he wanted. So he felt sure she was on the way. "She must have found the key, or do you suppose she climbed the gray wall?" wondered Ivra. "Shall we go to meet her?" asked Eric.
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