There was once two lads named Dan and Dan. Like a son after his father, he always cried “Oh Dan! Oh Dan!” and “Shpejt! Shpejt!” wherever they’d go for Dan was just a tad too slow. But like a father with his son, he cared not, for he loved him much, and would joyfully carry him to and fro. And from dawn to dusk, Dan and Oh-Dan would play, and sing, and swim, and eat, and dance, and spend all the waking moments of their lives together.
Now, there was a lady who lived in a village called Aurora Caelestis (“Kai-less-tis”), a place where the trees dance to the tune of the birds, and the fawn cavorts with the kits and the cubs under the iridescent skies, where the springs heal all sickness and diseases, being given life by the rivers that flowed from the heavenly places. And at night, the wind breathes a heavenly light, making known to all the earth, the enchanting beauty and splendor Aurora Caelestis bestows to those who accept it. But despite the marvels and fortitude that is to be found, it would not extend beyond the outskirts of the village.
Then, on the last day after the final month of harvest, the lady had left her village to sell a bushel of wheat, a donkey, and a cow (she is not the cow). Every year, she brings the excess of excess of the harvest to neighboring towns in hopes to bring back a token of her adventures, a memento beyond the journey’s end. And every year, for 9 years she had made these journeys. And every year, for 9 years, she had gained wisdom and knowledge and steadfastness. And every year, for 9 years, she had grown to know the dangers of the forests beyond Aurora Caelestis.
This season, her harvest was quite tremendous, as many rains have cooled the plants under the beating sun. Being excited to have journeyed for 10 years, the lady tells her family that she will be visiting the distant city of Durres. So at daybreak, the lady prepares her wagon, the donkey, the cow, and all the necessities for the adventure, and the moment she is about to leave her wondrous village, she turns around to see her mother, Mary, chasing after her. With tears in the mother’s eyes, she places on her daughter’s head a wreath of purity. In the center lies a pendant of ivory that is made to shine the lady’s path during the night. Then she hugs her, kisses her, and sets her free.
Despite the peace inside Aurora Caelestis, its edge is but a facade of tranquility. The storms and heavy rains which brought the lady a plentiful harvest gave birth to marshes and thickets. The once serene forest turned into a dense, gloomy wasteland that not even the Sherpa could traverse. Days pass but little progress is made. Though the sun is at its peak, only minute rays of light pave way to the road ahead of her. Yet, her pendant shines bright and illuminates her feet like a lamp for her path.
Six days pass. The lady, her cow, and her donkey reach midway of the forest. She finds a pond filled with daisies all around. Peaceful. Mild. Weary from the journey, they rest on the 7th.
Suddenly, her donkey sounds and kicks the cow in a fright. From nowhere a sea of butterflies combust into flames. The pendant on the wreath of purity fades black. Wisps of flame flutter through the air. Everyone scatters, each to their own way. The lady, in fear for her life, runs and runs for 13 miles, amidst thorns, in mud, through falls, with cuts and bruises. Finally, the lady escapes, free from the wisps of flame. She collapses down from exhaustion. Her mother’s gift — wilted, frayed ; her cow and donkey — lost to time; her bushels — returned to dust.
Whilst in a subliminal state, the lady groans and squints her eyes. She sees the most handsome man in the world and a young boy playing mariachi music and doing the Koritsa. As they complete their dance, the boy pauses. He sees her. “Oh-Dan! Oh-Dan! Shpejt! Shpejt!” he cries, rushing to her side. Then they brought her home to attend to her grievous wounds, and let her rest for the day. Upon waking, she could barely move, but at the smell of fresh bread and fish soup, she hobbles from her bed to snoop.
“Hold your horses,” says Oh-Dan. She frowns. “Why the long face?”
But with bellies full and friends made anew, they told stories of fate, of adventures, all true. And day by day, week by week, the two became one: a unit, unwavering, a new family begun. Finally, one month later, after her initial departure, they all go back together and live happily ever after.
Congratulations! May God bless you and your future family, and may His Words be written on your hearts for time to come.