Lotus and the Wishing Tree

Long ago, when magic still flowed freely through the forests and winds carried whispers of the old ways, there lived a young woman named Lotus. Her heart beat only for one person: a brave and noble hunter from her village. Yet for all her love, he never truly saw her.

The hunter, tall and strong, often returned from the wild with enough game to feed the village for weeks. On one such day, cheers erupted as he and his party arrived with their bounty. Villagers rushed forward to greet the heroes, and Lotus, caught in the crowd, found herself pushed closer to him. Her heart pounded. She smiled shyly, and for a fleeting second, he seemed pleased—until other girls called his name. He turned to them, smiling, while Lotus stood forgotten in the blur of laughter and admiration.

Crushed, she tried to step forward again but was jostled away by another villager. Tears welled up in her eyes. Her cheeks burned with humiliation. Unable to bear the moment, she fled the gathering, lifting her skirt and darting into the forest where no one would follow.

She didn’t stop until she reached the ancient Wishing Tree—a towering oak with silver-tinged leaves that shimmered under the full moon. There, alone and out of breath, she let her sorrow consume her. She sobbed until her body shook. Each failed attempt to speak with the hunter flashed through her mind. Every time she’d tried to connect, fate had found a way to intervene.

With a frustrated kick, she struck the gnarled root of the Wishing Tree. “Why won’t you help me?” she cried.

A gentle, whispering voice replied, “You really shouldn’t do that.”

Lotus froze. “Who’s there?” she asked the trees, the air, the shadows.

“I am a friend,” came the reply. “One who has watched you make offerings at this tree many times—tying wish bundles to branches, pouring sacred water on the roots. You have always been kind. Why hurt it now?”

“My wish has never come true,” she snapped. “And who are you?”

“You may call me Coll. I am not from your village.”

“Well, Coll,” Lotus said sharply, “please go away. I need to be alone.”

“But what was your wish?” Coll pressed gently. “Why does it trouble you so?”

Lotus hesitated. “It’s love. Or rather, unrequited love. I’ve wished for years that the hunter would look at me, speak to me, just… notice me. But he never has.”

Coll was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Perhaps the wish has not worked because it touches another’s will. Magic cannot interfere with a person’s choices. Your wish seeks to bend him toward you, even if only to notice.”

Lotus felt a pit open in her stomach. “Oh no…” she whispered. “I never meant to force him. I just wanted to be seen… wanted…”

She sank to the forest floor, her hands trembling. “What kind of person am I? For five years, I’ve wished for him to feel something he doesn’t.”

Coll’s voice was closer now. “There may be another way. What if your wish was about changing yourself, and not him?”

This idea stirred something within her. Could it work? Could she become someone worthy of his gaze—someone impossible to ignore?

“I need to think,” she said quietly. “I will return.”

Over the next seven days, Lotus returned to the Wishing Tree. She brought sweet oils and strong herbal teas. She apologized and whispered to the bark. She gently rubbed the spot she had kicked. She waited for forgiveness. On the seventh day, she climbed the tree and tied a new wish bundle to the highest branch.

With eyes closed and heart open, she whispered:
“Wishing Tree, please grant me this one desire. Change me—not him. Make me worthy of his attention. Make me beautiful, gentle, and unforgettable. Let me become something he cannot overlook. I ask for no harm to come to him, no interference with his heart or mind. Only that I may be changed.”

She climbed down and called softly, “Coll? Are you there?”

“Yes,” came the breeze-like voice.

“Do you think it will work?”

“I believe it will. But are you certain? There is no turning back.”

Lotus took a deep breath. “This is what I want. I’ve chosen it freely.”

“Then the wish shall be granted.”

That night, Lotus dreamed of moonlight, branches, wind, and shimmering fur. She awoke with a sense of lightness and grace. Her senses were heightened. The forest smelled like wild honey. The breeze whispered ancient secrets in her ear. Something inside her had shifted.

Drawn back to the Wishing Tree, she hurried through the woods, feeling oddly… elegant. She looked up—the pouch was gone.

The wish had worked.

But as she glanced down, joy turned to dread.

Where once were her delicate hands, now were slender, trembling hooves. Her skin was covered in soft, golden-brown fur. Her breath came fast. Her heart thundered in her chest.

She tried to scream, but only a quiet grunt emerged.

“Oh no,” Lotus thought, panic flooding her mind. “What have I done? I’m a deer!”

A rustling in the brush made her spin. Something approached. Without another thought, she turned and leapt into the woods, fear guiding her now.

She had become something beautiful. Something gentle. Something unforgettable.

But she was no longer human.

Moral of the Story:

Be careful what you wish for. True love cannot be forced or earned through transformation—it must be freely given and genuinely felt. Changing yourself to be noticed may cause you to lose who you truly are.