The Miracle -- A Tale of Brigadoon

I had loved him my entire life. Ever since the day he first came to my father's milk stand, I had loved Harry Beaton. He never cared much for me. He had his eye on little Jeannie MacLaren. If it wasn't for handsome Charlie Dalrymple, Jeannie would probably be with Harry. He's a very handsome lad, too. Jeannie was very sweet, and she deserved gentle Charlie. harry was rouch, and thought that everyone hated him. Not I, though. I would love my Harry until the day that I died.
"Maggie Anderson, ye bonny lass, stop drinkin' all the milk!" my uncle cried.
"Aye, Uncle Angus," I replied, setting down the mug. I was thirsty, but my mean old uncle never let me drink any of the milk.
"Ye're drinkin' up the profits, Maggie!" Meg Brockie giggled. "Save some for the handsome lads that will be comin'!" Meg worked for my uncle and got paid. I received no wages, because I was family. It wasn't fair at all.
"Angus MacGuffie! Have ye any milk for a poor man of God?" It was Mr. Forsythe! He always said the same thing when he came to the milk stand in the mornings. Uncle Angus held up a mug of fresh milk.
"Aye, sir! The best milk on MacConnachy Square! Nay, in all of Brigadoon!" Uncle Angus exclaimed. Mr. Forsythe took the mug and drank it down. He dropped a coin into Uncle Angus' hand and smiled at me.
"I canna find better milk in all of Scotland, Maggie," he said, winking at me. "Keep that cow a-milkin'. Will ye, Maggie?"
"Aye, sir, I will. My brother does the milkin', so I'll be sure he doesn't slack," I replied. I tried to smile, but in my direct line of vision was Harry Beaton. He was talking to Jeannie MacLaren. Charlie was in Edinburgh, and Harry had not left Jeannie alone since he left.
"What ails ye this fine mornin', Maggie?" Mr. Forsythe asked. He could always tell when something was wrong.
"Harry Beaton," I replied with a sigh. "He pays Jeannie more mind than me. She's goin' to marry Charlie, but Harry is determined to stop the weddin'. I love him, Mr. Forsythe. I only wish that he would love me."
"I believe that he does love ye, Maggie. The poor lad just dinna realize it. Jeannie had never loved him, and he knows it. Give the lad time, Maggie. He'll come to ye, darlin'." Mr. Forsythe was the greatest man in all of Brigadoon. I kissed his cheek.
"Thank ye, Mr. Forsythe. I just hope Harry comes soon. Charlie will be home tomorrow evenin', and I'm afraid that Harry will do somethin' before then," I said.
"Don't ye worry, Maggie! Harry won't try anythin'. Remember, if ye love someone enough, anythin' is possible. Harry will come," he replied, then turned and walked away. I looked over at Harry. He was staring after Jeannie as she walked away with her sister, Fiona. I marched straight over to him.
"Hello, Harry! How are ye this fine mornin'?" I said He looked down at me.
"As good as I'll ever be with Jean marryin' Charlie," he said sternly. "Just leave me alone, Maggie." He stormed away. I frowned deeply and started to follow him.
"Let him go, Maggie," my cousin, Kate, said. "He wants to keep to himself."
"WITCHES!" A cry rose up from the other side of the square. It was Sandy Dean. Everyone rushed over to him.
"Are they were in Brigadoon?" Mr. Lundie, the schoolmaster, asked.
"Nay, but there is a band of them comin' this way. They should be here in a few days," Sandy said breathlessly.
"I hope Charlie gest back safe," his brother, Stuart, said. "Mother would never forgive us if somethin' were to happen to him."
"What can be done to stop them?" Ian MacGregor asked. Everyone began talking at once. Mr. Forsythe held up his hand.
"Lads, I have a plan, but I dinna know if it will work. Have nay worries about the witches. All will be well." He had a strange look in his eyes which frightened me. Mr. Forsythe had never failed Brigadoon before, so I trusted him.
I was walking through the brae a few hours later, when I saw Harry. He was staring off at nothing. I didn't want to bother him, but I knew I had to.
"Harry, there are witches comin' to Brigadoon," I said, sitting down next to him. He stared at me for a few moments.
"I know, Maggie," he replied.
"Ye're not scared?" I asked.
"Aye," was all he said. I reached up and touched a lock of his red hair.
"Mr. Forsythe has a plan, but he won't tell us. It might not work. If it dinna, will ye protect me from the witches? I asked. Harry didn't answer. "I hope Charlie Dalrymple dinna have any trouble with them."
"I hope that he does. Jean dinna deserve him. She deserves me," he said. I turned away quickly.
"What does Jeannie have that I dinna?" I asked, facing him again. I startled him with my question. He stared at me for a moment.
"I dinna know, Maggie," he replied softly.
"Is it her golden hair?"
"Nay. Yer dark hair is very pretty."
"Is it her green eyes?"
"I like yer blue ones."
"What is it then, Harry?" I cried. Harry jumped to his feet.
"I dinna know, Maggie! Will ye just leave me alone?" He ran off through the brae.
"I love ye, Harry Beaton!" I screamed. "When will ye know that?" I leaned back on a rock and cried.

* * *

The next night, I went for a walk on a hill near Brigadoon. Harry had avoided me all that day, and it hurt very badly. Charlie was home, so the wedding would be on Friday. Then, Harry would be mine forever. The thought sent chills through my body.
As I walked on the hill, I saw a figure ahead of me. As first, I thought that it was a witch. Then the moon came out from behind a cloud. It was Mr. Forsythe! He was praying. He must have heard me coming, because he looked up.
"Maggie Anderson! What are ye doin' here, lass?" he asked.
"Just goin' for a walk," I replied. "I was thinkin' about Harry."
"Ye need to get back to Brigadoon, lass," he said. "I'm prayin' for a miracle. Ye must be in the town, or ye will have to stay here with me."
"I dinna understand, Mr. Forsythe," I said. "What kind of miracle?"
"The witches will be here soon, Maggie. I want to protect Brigadoon. I am prayin' that the town will disappear and only reappear for one day every one hundred years. The witches winna harm ye, and ye winna be in any century long enough to be touched by it." I stared at Mr. Forsythe for a few moments. "Is Charlie home, Maggie?"
"Aye. He returned just before I left," I replied.
"Good, then. Get back to Brigadoon as quickly as ye can, lass. Mr. Lundie will make certain that everyone knows the rules," Mr. Forsythe said.
"Winna ye be there?" I asked. I was trembling now.
"Nay, Maggie. A sacrifice must be made. I will stay behind," he replied. I threw myself into his arms.
"I canna leave ye, Mr. Forsythe!" I exclaimed, bursting into tears.
"Ye must, Maggie. Be gone with ye now, lass." He helped me to my feet and gave me a gentle push. I kissed his cheek and then began to run. As I reached the outskirts of Brigadoon, I was enveloped in a soft mist. I turned around quickly.
"Goodbye, Mr. Forsythe!" I called out. "Thank ye!" I ran to my house just as the mist began to get thicker.
"Goodbye, Maggie!"

The End

(c) 1996 - Angela Johnson

Note: This story was written while I was playing Maggie Anderson in my high school's production of the Lerner & Loewe musical, "Brigadoon". My sincerest apologies to Alan Jay Lerner & Frederick Loewe for my own imagining of their characters. They can't arrest you for Fan Fiction, can they? (Sorry about the lack of indentation. It was there when I typed it, but didn't stick around when I published. Grrrr....)

Just for kicks and giggles, here's a picture of Harry Beaton and me from the production.

The Puzzle

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young maiden who lived by herself in a cozy cottage next to the mountains. She had many things to fill her day, but she was still very lonely. She didn't know what to do about that, so she continued on as she always had…one day at a time.

One day a strange package appeared on her doorstep. The maiden brought it inside and carefully removed the wrapping. It was an unmarked box. Inside were thousands of puzzle pieces. The maiden didn't really care much for puzzles, but this was too intriguing to set aside. She cleared off the table and set to work on the puzzle. With no picture to guide her, it was slow in going. However, she soon discovered the picture to be that of a girl…a girl not unlike herself. As soon as she started working on the face, she was shocked to find that the girl was her! With hands shaking slightly, she pulled the last pieces from the box and put them in place. But to her surprise, there were two pieces missing…right where her heart was. To her even greater surprise, she felt emptiness in herself, right where those pieces were to have gone. Stepping back, the maiden stared at the puzzle and pondered its meaning.

For several days, she thought about what the puzzle was and why it had come to her. What could it possibly mean? Who had sent it to her? Was this some kind of cruel joke? Tears filled her eyes as she prepared the tear the puzzle apart and burn the box entirely. This must have been a joke, and it was a very cruel one indeed. Someone knew she was all alone and lonely. They were malicious in their intent to hurt her feelings.

Just as she reached toward the puzzle, a knock came at the door. The maiden quickly dried her eyes and stepped away from the table. She opened the door to reveal a handsome prince standing before her. He had a quizzical look on his face as he held out his hand. The maiden was shocked to see a puzzle piece in his outstretched hand.

"I was told to bring this to you," he said.

"Who told you?" she asked.

"I don't know," he replied. "It arrived at my door with directions to this house. Do you know what it means?" The maiden motioned for him to come in.

"I have an idea," she said. She led him to the table and pointed at the nearly completed puzzle. The prince gasped.

"It's you! But why?" he asked.

"I don't know, but see if that piece will fit," she replied. The prince did as she bid, and the piece almost fit. But something was still missing.

"There is room for one more piece. I don't understand." Tears glistened in the maiden's eyes.

"I have a note that may help," the prince said. He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to the maiden.

"Find the maid of whom this is part, and look to God to complete the heart."

The maiden read the words and started at their meaning. She raised her eyes to the prince and gasped. He held a piece of her heart and God held the other part. She turned and walked quickly to her bookshelf. She pulled down the old worn Bible that had belonged to her mother. As she opened it, something fell to the floor. It was a puzzle piece. She carried it to the puzzle and put it in its place, next to piece that the prince had brought. The maiden sighed and clutched at her chest. The emptiness was gone. Her heart was complete.

THE END.

(c) 2007 - Angela Johnson

The Key

The walls are as high as a mountain top
and thick as the ocean is wide
This fortress of steel and mortar and stone
has become the best place to hide.
But what in the world could need such protection?
Is it silver or platinum or gold?
It must be a treasure unequal in measure
or secrets that cannot be told.
The truth will surprise you, I promise it will,
for it's almost too awful to bear.
It's my heart I keep locked up, hidden away
to protect it from hurt and despair.
My heart was once shattered to pieces, you see,
and it really was quite a mess.
When everything was mended and patched up again,
I then did what I thought was best.
This wall I did build, stone by stone from the ground
and sheltered myself from more pain.
If my heart can't be reached and broken once more,
then I've spared myself once again.
Can this high wall be scaled or broken in two?
Will true love my heart ever see?
It will, for you see there's a door in my wall,
and one person holds the lone key.
He'll come into my life and unlock the door.
He'll fill my heart with love.
The wall will come down, piece by piece it will fall
from the inside, with help from God above.
I know this for certain. I have not one fear.
God will send this angel to me.
He's somewhere searching, pining for us,
this boy who hold's my heart's key.

(c) 2003 - Angela Johnson