Helga

Helga

Far in the north, where the sea breathes coolness even in summer, there stood a small house under a dark roof. In it lived a father, a mother and three daughters.

The older sisters were Fredegonda and Olga. They loved pretty ribbons, warm mittens, and long conversations beside the fire. The youngest, Helga, was quiet and watchful, always noticing when someone needed help.

Helga was not treated fairly at home. Whenever water needed fetching, the floor needed sweeping, or the goats needed feeding, she was usually the one called.

“Helga, do it quickly,” said the mother.

“And find my scarf,” Fredegonda added.

“And bring me a comb,” asked Olga.

Helga did not argue, but sometimes, going outside, she would look at the distant mountains and think that one day she would definitely see the world beyond their snowy peaks.

One evening a strong wind rose over the island. Smoke swirled in the chimney, the door trembled, and suddenly the fire in the stove went out.

An Icelandic home could not manage without a fire. They needed it to cook supper and keep warm through the night.

Her father said:

“A charcoal burner lives nearby, in a cave beside the hill. He’s sure to have glowing embers. Someone must ask him for a few hot coals.”

Fredegonda went first.

She threw on her cloak and set off towards the hill. When the girl came closer, a strange voice was heard from inside the earth:

“Tell me, traveller: do you come with good intentions or bad?”

Fredegonda snorted.

“I have no time to talk to the hills.”

She went into the cave. There was a pot boiling, dough on the table, and a big black dog sitting by the fire.

“Move over,” said Fredegonda, and took the best piece from the pot.

The dog whined softly, as if asking to share.

“Certainly not!” she replied.

When Fredegonda reached for the embers, the dog grabbed her mitten in its teeth and ran into the depths of the cave. The girl was so frightened that she jumped out and ran home, forgetting about the fire.

“What a rude dog!” she complained. “And he stole my mitten!”

Olga followed next.

At the hill the same voice asked:

“Do you come with good intentions or bad?”

“I came for the fire, not for the riddles,” Olga replied.

In the cave she also saw a cauldron, dough, and a black dog. Olga tasted the food, chose the largest cake for herself, and pushed the bowl away from the dog.

When she picked up a glowing coal, the dog caught the end of her long scarf. Olga spun around, the scarf came undone, and the coal fell into the ashes. She fled from the cave in a hurry.

And so she returned with nothing.

It was getting colder and colder in the house.

Then Helga said:

“I’ll try.”

She took a small clay pot for the embers and went to the hill.

When a mysterious voice was heard, Helga stopped.

“Do you come with good intentions or bad?”

“Good, I hope,” she replied. “And if anyone here needs help, I’ll do what I can.”

The voice fell silent.

In the cave, Helga saw the same thing: a pot, dough, and a large black dog.

She peered into the pot.

“It looks like dinner will burn soon.”

Helga stirred the food carefully. Then she noticed the dough, shaped it into small cakes and put them to bake. Then she sat down next to the dog.

“You must be hungry too.”

She put the cake and some food in front of him. The dog wagged its tail.

But Helga did not take any embers. ‘I mustn’t take what belongs to someone else without asking,’ she thought. ‘I’ll wait for the owner.’

Soon the ground rumbled under her feet. A giant with three heads entered the cave. He was so tall that he had to bend down under the arch.

Helga froze.

One of the giant’s heads said:

“Who cooked my dinner?”

The other asked:

“Who fed my dog?”

And the third added:

“And who baked the cakes?”

Helga gathered her courage.

“I did. Please forgive me if I’ve done anything wrong. Our fire has gone out, and I came to ask for a few embers.”

The giant sat down at the table.

“You could have taken it and run away.”

“I could have, but the fire wasn’t mine to take.”

The black dog put its muzzle on Helga’s lap.

The giant smiled with all three of his faces.

“Then have dinner with me.”

They sat down to supper. At first Helga was frightened, but her host spoke gently, asked about her home, and listened closely.

Suddenly, thunder rumbled outside the cave walls. The light flashed so brightly that Helga closed her eyes.

When she looked again in front of her, the giant was gone.

In his place stood a young man in a dark blue cloak. The same black dog sat next to him.

“Don’t be afraid,” the stranger said. “My name is Thorkil. I am a prince, but I spent many years under a spell. It could be broken only when someone looked beyond my frightening appearance and saw me as I truly am.”

Helga fell silent in astonishment.

Thorkil continued:

“You didn’t come for a reward. You helped, shared, and took nothing that belonged to someone else. Your kindness broke the spell.”

He took out a small box.

“Take this to your family. There are enough jewels here to make all your lives easier.”

Then he handed Helga a thin gold ring.

“And this is for you. If you want, I will come to your house. We will talk again, in daylight. And then you decide for yourself whether you want to see my country.”

Finally, Thorkil gave her a warm cloak lined with gold and filled her clay pot with glowing coals.

Helga returned home. The fire was lit again in the stove, and the rooms became warm.

When her parents saw the box, they could not believe their eyes. Fredegonda and Olga gasped too.

“Where did you get this?” they asked.

Helga told about the cave, the black dog and the enchanted prince. But about the ring she only said that it was a memory of a strange night.

A few days passed.

One morning a beautiful ship appeared in the bay. A blue flag flew from its mast. Thorkil went ashore.

He came to the house and greeted Helga’s father.

“They say you have three daughters.”

The father was embarrassed.

"There are two older ones... and Helga."

Fredegonda and Olga hurriedly smoothed their hair and stood beside the window. Their mother first asked Helga to stay in the kitchen.

But Thorkil said:

"I came specifically to see Helga."

The girl came out of the kitchen. A gold ring flashed on her finger.

"You came," she said quietly.

"I promised."

Thorkil told the family how Helga’s kindness had freed him from the spell. For the first time, her parents truly considered how much work and responsibility they had always placed on their youngest daughter.

"We were unfair to you," said the father.

The mother hugged Helga.

Fredegonda brought her sister new mittens, and Olga quietly draped her finest scarf over Helga’s shoulders.

Thorkil invited Helga to visit his country across the sea.

“Only if you choose to,” he added.

Helga looked out of the window. Mountains shone beyond the bay, and beyond them lay the world she had so often dreamed about.

“I do,” she said.

Before she left, she opened her jewel box and left some for her sisters and parents.

“May it always be warm in our home,” Helga said.

Then she stepped onto the ship.

The wind filled the sails, the black dog sat at her feet, and the ship sailed across the cold, shining sea.

In time, Helga and Thorkil decided to marry. In their home, no one asked a guest about their clothes or wealth. First they offered a place beside the fire, a warm meal, and a listening ear.

Helga knew that true enchantment often lies in how we treat others when no reward has been promised.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨