Wishing Well
Throw a penny into the well. Wishes do come true sometimes!

by Beth Smith

Once upon a time, a shabby cottage sat near the edge of Monkton Road, just around the corner from Manor Mill in Monkton, Maryland.

The house belonged to a nice old lady with bright blue eyes, gray hair tied back from her face, and a roly-poly shape, which was always covered in a long apron-like skirt. No one seemed to know when this old lady arrived in Monkton. She just always seemed to live in the dilapidated house. She had a dozen cats and dogs of various colors, sizes, and shapes that followed her about, anticipating a snack that the old lady would occasionally pull from her apron pocket.

On a bright summer day, a dozen children might be in Ms. Yoder’s backyard at the wishing well throwing pennies into the well. All the children agreed. If you threw a penny into Ms. Yoder’s wishing well, your wish might come true.

In the backyard of the house was a well house, which was not a bit shabby. It was painted bright yellow with a bright red roof, and a blue bucket that would hum a tune when it swung back and forth under the red roof.

A rumor circulated around the Monkton community that sometimes Ms. Yoder, the old lady, would pick up a cat, put the cat in the bucket, and give the cat a ride down to the depths of the well. The bucket would swing and sing, and the cat would purr as loud as the dogs could bark, which they did a lot at Ms. Yoder’s house.

The cats seemed to like the bucket ride and the bucket tune even though they emerged from the well trip dripping with water. The rumor was confirmed when Billy McLean crawled under Mrs. Yoder’s huge hydrangea bush and secretly watched the cats riding up and down in the blue well bucket. None ever fell out of the bucket.

When the weather was nice, and Ms. Yoder was in her yard, she would call to children walking by to come see the cats and dogs and hear the well sing. She would give them a penny to throw into the well and whisper a wish. Although the children had been told by their well-meaning parents not to take money from poor, old Ms. Yoder, they couldn’t resist.

On a bright summer day, a dozen children might be in Ms. Yoder’s backyard at the wishing well throwing pennies into the well. All the children agreed. If you threw a penny into Ms. Yoder’s wishing well, your wish might come true.

“Now, you might not always get your wish,” Ms. Yoder said to the boys and girls. “The wishing well fairies work in strange ways, sometimes granting a wish, sometimes not. Make your wish small. Might come true, then again it might not.”

The children didn’t really care. They just liked visiting the well, the cats, the dogs, and Ms. Yoder.

Occasionally a giant wish came true and the children cheered and spread the word about the wishing well.

For one entire summer, Tommy Tyler, who had a lame leg, wished for a gray pony to ride to Sparks Elementary School in the fall. Ms. Yoder said that was a giant wish, and the pony didn’t appear. Then, two days before school started, a cart pulled up at the Tyler house with a gray pony hitched to it. The driver of the cart said he was asked to deliver the pony to a boy named Tommy by a strange little man with red hair who said he was passing through Monkton. Tommy’s parents were confused, but the pony stayed.

Barbara Anne McIntosh, a quiet, homely sixteen-year-old, desperately wanted a new dress to wear to the Monkton Fall Festival. Her mother said she had no extra money for a party dress.

“And don’t go throwing no pennies into that wishing well,” said Mrs. McIntosh. “You are a bit too old to believe in wishing wells.”

But when Barbara Anne was secretly visiting the wishing well one day, Ms. Yoder said “Give it try. I’ll give you a penny.”

A week later, a box addressed to Barbara Anne arrived at her house. Inside was a beautiful party dress from a store in downtown Baltimore. No card was in the box. Barbara Anne’s mother was astonished, but Barbara Anne said quietly, “The wishing well.” Barbara Anne wore the dress to the Festival that night and was crowned queen of the party.

The older people in Monkton didn’t believe at all in the power of the wishing well. Well, at least they didn’t admit it. But occasionally a few of the town’s ladies would sneak into Ms. Yoder’s backyard and throw a penny in. Ms. Yoder watched them from her cracked window in her parlor and smiled.

Mrs. Jenkins wished her husband would shave off his beard. A few nights later, before coming to bed, he did. Mrs. Smith wished her mother-in-law would take a trip. A few days later, her mother-in-law announced that she was going to visit her sister in Richmond for a month. Mrs. Dodds wished her apple pie would win the blue ribbon at the state fair, and she came home from the fair on Labor Day with a blue ribbon pinned to her jacket.

Lilly Jenkins, mother of four boys, wished she had a little girl. Ninth months later, her daughter was born. Everyone shook their heads and said that couldn’t be the wishing well. Ms. Yoder just smiled.

The workers, all men, at Manor Mill just scoffed at the wishing well. They could see the red well roof from the second floor of the mill building and sometimes could see the children running in and out of Ms. Yoder’s yard. But they never visited…or did they?

Actually, before Friday night poker games, Bud, the mill foreman, sneaked into Ms. Yoder’s yard, threw a penny in, and secretly wished to win every hand. Most poker games, Bud ruled. Joe Turner sometimes secretly threw a penny in and wished for a date with Sally Jenkins. He was often seen walking with her on the Gunpower trail.

One young mill employee who didn’t visit the wishing well was Toby Fisher. Toby had no family and was almost penniless. He had no money to throw into a well. For years he lived at the County Home until someone at the Home mentioned that the Manor Grist Mill was looking for a few workers.

Just fourteen, Toby walked all the way from Cockeysville to Monkton to find a job. The mill manager was impressed. He gave Toby a job sweeping up the floors at the Mill and a place to sleep, a small cot in the Mill basement. Four years later he was still sleeping on the cot in the Mill and still penniless. But over the years he had honed some carpenter skills and wood carving skills using bits of wood he found in the woods behind the Mill.

When Ms. Yoder heard about Toby, she was interested. When Bud arrived one Friday for his secret poker wish, Ms. Yoder sneaked up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Bud, I hear you have a young lad, Toby somebody, at the Mill who has some carpenter skills,” she said. “Please ask him to come see me sometime next week for some carpentry work.”

The very next moment, the sleigh carrying Toby and Ms. Yoder, alias Matilda, headed onto Monkton Road, passed Manor Mill, and in a few minutes pulled up in front of the great house at Pindell’s Pride.

“Now, Ms. Yoder, “I can’t see why you want to hire Toby Fisher,” said Bud, a bit embarrassed as he quickly dropped his penny in the well. “He is a pretty shy lad. Likes to spend his free time carving out birds and forest creatures. I can get you a better carpenter. And, just so you know, his face is covered in what I would call nasty black pimples and scars. He said he had smallpox when he was five. His mama never had him vaccinated. His mama died of smallpox.”

Ms. Yoder didn’t hesitate. “Pox scars or not, I want Toby Fisher” said Ms. Yoder in a voice that told Bud to send Toby Fisher, no one else would do. “Toby will work for me, but he will continue to sleep at the Mill. I will pay for his cot. You can hire a new sweep man. Mr. Jenkins will agree.”

And, much to Bud’s surprise, Mr. Jenkins did agree, although Mr. Jenkins himself was not sure why he agreed to the arrangement.

A few days later Toby arrived at Ms. Yoder’s. He was wearing patched overalls and a plaid shirt pulled up over his neck, dirty boots, and a cap pulled down over his forehead, almost to his nose.

“Welcome, laddie,” said Ms. Yoder. “I hear you are a carpenter, and I need a full-time carpenter to rebuild this house.” Ms. Yoder was not much on small talk.

“I don’t know if I have the skills to rebuild your house,” mumbled Toby.

“Oh, you’ll do fine. All the tools and materials will be here. You don’t have to do anything but repair and build. And, why don’t you take off that cap? I don’t like talking to a hat.”

Toby hesitated. He didn’t like to show his face. He liked his small space in the dark Mill basement and sweeping at night. Not many people had to look at him with his ugly face.

“I don’t like people to see my face. I am pretty homely.” He said quietly.

“Oh well, no bother,” said Ms. Yoder. “Let’s get busy tomorrow.”

When Toby arrived the next morning, he was surprised to find a wheelbarrow full of shiny hammers and saws and shovels, the best tools available, plus cans of paint, and stacks of lumber. He wondered how the materials got to the delipidated house, but Ms. Yoder said she bought them from a little man with red hair.

And, so the work began. Toby worked very hard, but always when he arrived the next morning, he felt that his previous work had multiplied, and much more work was done than he did. He would scratch his head.

Ms. Yoder’s cats and dogs liked Toby, and they brushed up against him as he hammered the porch posts or painted the new porch. Ms. Yoder showed him how the cats rode up and down in the blue well bucket. Toby would look at the wishing well and sigh. Ms. Yoder offered a penny for a wish, but Toby always declined; instead he made up a song and sang a duet with the well bucket. At lunchtime, Ms. Yoder would bring him a basket full of ham sandwiches, red apples, homemade cookies.

After lunch, Toby took to carving cat statues from the unused lumber. He painted them with left-over paint in bright colors like the red of the wishing well roof, or blue like the bucket, or sometimes yellow like the new paint on Ms. Yoder’s house. Ms. Yoder loved the cat sculptures and lined them up on her new porch railing.

As summer passed, Toby began to feel more and more at home at Ms. Yoder’s. One day when he was fixing the floor in the dining room of the cottage, he took his cap off. Ms. Yoder had a good look at his face, and she was sad. But she pretended his face was like any other face. She smiled at him, and Toby smiled back.

When the Fall Festival arrived, everyone at the Mill and in the town was talking about going. Mr. Jenkins gave all the Manor Mill employees the day off. Everyone was going to the Festival, everyone but Toby. Nothing Ms. Yoder said could convince him to go. She said make a wish and go. Toby said no.

Then on the first of December, everyone in Monkton, including Ms. Yoder and Toby, received an exciting card in the mail…the invitations, gold with red printing, invited the entire town to a gala Christmas ball at Pindell’s Pride, the Monkton estate of Judge and Mrs. Pindell. The women were dazzled with the prospect of a ball gown – a ball gown to wear in Monkton! The men were intrigued with tasting what would probably be the most expensive whiskey in Maryland.

The young girls were excited about the prospect of dancing with rich young men from the Manor or a handsome, hardworking lad from the village. The young men were thinking maybe they could steal a kiss from a village lass under the mistletoe. While the ball was in progress, the children would attend a special party in the big barn with special treats and a visit from ole St. Nick, better known as Santa Claus.

Even the pastor from the Methodist Church was invited. He was asked to give his blessing to an event that would include whisky and dancing, and enticed by a generous donation to the poor fund, he crossed his heart, looked up to God, and said he would be delighted to attend. Without a doubt, the Christmas Ball was the most eagerly anticipated event of the year or any year of the last fifty years in Monkton.

A few days before the ball, Ms. Yoder asked Toby if he was going.

“No, I am not going. I don’t have dancing clothes, and I have an ugly face that would send all the ladies into a faint,” he said.

“That’s not so,” said Ms. Yoder. “I see your face every day, and I haven’t fainted yet.

The night of the ball, Toby knocked on Ms. Yoder’s door to say he had finished his work for the day and was heading back to Manor Mill.

“Toby,” said Ms. Yoder. “I want you to do me a great favor. I want you to take this penny, go out to the wishing well, throw in the penny, and wish to be going to the ball.”

Toby hesitated, “But, I don’t want to go to the Christmas ball,” he said, although in his heart he felt a yearning to go.

Ms. Yoder looked very sad. Toby thought she might cry.

Toby felt bad. “Well, you have been very nice and generous to me, Ms. Yoder,” he said. “So I guess if all you want me to do is to throw a penny in the well, I guess I can do that.”

“And,” said Ms. Yoder, “don’t’ forget to wish to be going to the ball.”

Toby took the shiny penny, and dropped it into the well. “I wish I was going to the ball,” he whispered. Did he mean it? You must wish with a true heart for a wish to come true.

All was very still for a second. Then Toby suddenly felt a bit dazed. The sky seemed to be bursting in red and greens, bouncing off the snow what had begun to accumulate on the ground. Toby saw star-like flakes hitting the ground with a sparkle. He closed his eyes.

When he opened them, he was looking at a very beautiful woman dressed in white like the snow, with a glistening hair bow and silver belt tied around her billowing skirts. She was waving a golden wand around him, and, in an instant, he was dressed in a handsome black suit and with a ruffled white silk shirt. His rundown shoes had been replaced with shiny boots with gold buckles. A warm wool evening coat covered his new evening suit.

“What’s happening,” Toby gasped.

“I am the great Faerie Queen, I will take care of you,” sang the woman. “You know wishes can come true, and they can happen to you, too.”

“Matilda, Matilda, hurry, hurry, you will be late for the ball,” sang the Faerie Queen, pointing her wand at the barking dogs who had been circling her since she arrived. The dogs immediately stopped barking and sat down. The cats who had disappeared into the barn with the Faerie Queen’s arrival began to reappear.

“I, I am so confused,” mumbled Toby, who noticed he was just getting some feeling back in his toes, now superbly ensconced in his handsome new boots. He looked up just as Ms. Yoder came down the back porch stairs. Although his eyes were still hazy, he could see that she was dressed in a purple ball gown with a warm purple cape to match.

“Ms., Ms. Yoder,” you look beautiful,” he said, stuttering a bit.

“Toby,” said the Fairy Queen, “let me introduce you to Matilda, my wonderful emissary from the faerie world. But to you, she is still Ms. Yoder. Tomorrow, you will remember nothing of this scene or my visit or your wish. But tonight, you will go to the Christmas Ball and savor all that you see and hear. Matilda will guide you and support you and show you the way with a little bit of magic.

“I really don’t understand what is happening,” said Toby.

“Sometimes in life, Toby, you don’t think, you don’t ask questions, you just embrace. Embrace the night. I will touch you with my wand, and the magic will overpower you. You will submit to the spell. But first, you need to get to Pindell’s Pride. Bring me a wheelbarrow and two cats.”

Toby stumbled into the recently renovated barn and returned with the wheelbarrow. Sitting in the wheelbarrow were Jezabel and June, two of Ms. Yoder’s favorite cats. With a touch of the faerie wand, the wheelbarrow transformed into a winter sleigh pulled by two handsome horses. Matilda, alias Ms. Yoder, climbed in.

“Enjoy the night, Toby. Matilda, or Ms. Yoder as you know her, will guide you with her magic.”

Toby hesitated.

“No, I can’t go,” said Toby. “You gave me handsome clothes, a sleigh to drive, a magic person to help, but I can’t go. My face is ugly and scared. I’ll not go out and about among regular folks and try to smile and laugh.”

The Faerie Queen pulled a large gold mirror from the air. “Gaze,” my Toby,” she said.

Toby looked and was astonished. His face was clear. The pox marks were gone. The scars had disappeared.

“You are very handsome,” said the Faerie Queen. “Now, on your way.” The Faerie Queen swirled her wand around the sleigh and disappeared. The very next moment, the sleigh carrying Toby and Ms. Yoder, alias Matilda, headed onto Monkton Road, passed Manor Mill, and in a few minutes pulled up in front of the great house at Pindell’s Pride.

“Give me your arm and help me out of this sleigh,” said Ms. Yoder. “You are charmed, and you will be charming. You will dance, and sing, and maybe kiss a pretty girl. You will forget the Faerie Queen, and you will be king of the Christmas Ball. If you falter, glance at me, and I will send you a bit of magic.”

Toby was transformed. He was not the scar-faced lad who slept on a cot in the basement of Manor Mill. He was a handsome young man with manners and poise. He slipped Ms. Yoder’s arm through his, mounted the steps, and politely thanked Perkins, the butler, when he opened the door for them. Toby and Ms. Yoder glided into the great hall of the Manor house.

“Good evening,” said Toby, as he greeted Judge Pindell. “Ah, I believe you know my employer, Ms. Yoder. Toby shook the judge’s hand. “And, Mrs. Pindell, thank you so much for inviting us to the Christmas Ball. You look lovely tonight.” Toby took her hand and brushed a kiss on it. Ms. Yoder smiled. Mrs. Pindell felt her heart flutter.

“Toby, guide me to a chair there in the corner and be off,” whispered Ms. Yoder.

After seating Ms. Yoder, Toby turned. The great hall was bathed in hundreds of gas lights and candles, shining on a hundred guests, gentry and villagers, old and young, wearing their very best party clothes.

At one end of the room was a huge pine tree decorated with hundreds of tiny candles. At the other end, an elegant fireplace glowed. Toby noticed the elaborate mantle. “I might be able to make something like that,” he said quietly.

In the middle of this stately grandeur was a group of men, all dressed in black evening suits, playing the most beautiful music, not music like the Monkton Festival, but still gay and tuneful. Ms. Yoder whispered, “Those men are called a quartet. They are playing a waltz from Europe. Ask a young woman to waltz. You can waltz.”

Suddenly, Bud, the Mill manager, ran up, pounded him on his shoulder, and yelled, “Lord, Toby, it is you! You are a handsome devil. Everyone is talking about you. What happened? Where did you get that suit? What happened to your face? Your pox marks are gone! Come on over and have a drink with the Mill hands. Judge Pindell is serving some great whiskey.”

Toby glanced at Ms. Yoder. She shook her head yes.

He was about to go with Bud when the leader of the quartet announced, “Ladies’ choice for a polka,” and before Toby could take a step, he was surrounded by a bevy of young women, all claiming him for the dance.

He glanced again at Ms. Yoder. She shook her head yes.

For the next hour or more, Toby was claimed for every dance, ladies’ choice or not. And, he danced, stopping only for a glass of eggnog or a bit of whiskey. But when the orchestra stopped for a break, Toby quietly excused himself from the ladies and stepped through the glass doors onto the terrace. The young ladies retreated, watching him and waiting for his return.

The night was cold, but quiet. Stars twinkled above and a full moon cast light on the garden beyond. Toby saw what he thought was a statue, but it moved. Looking carefully and moving toward the object, he discovered Barbara Anne McIntosh. He knew her because the men of the Mill teased about her, saying she was the sweetest girl in Monkton, but, oh, so homely.

“Hello,” said Toby. “Why are you hiding out here in the dark?”

Barbara Anne looked up. “I don’t mix in well with people,” she whispered. “All the young girls are so pretty, and I am not. I did go to the Fall Festival once. I had a new dress, and I danced the Virginia Reel. This is the dress I wore to the Fall Festival. I didn’t get a ball dress, but I wanted to come, even if I just stood in the shadows.

The music began again.

“I love this waltz,” whispered Barbara Anne. “It is called the Blue Danube. I heard it once when I went with my school to a concert in Baltimore.”

“I think your dress is perfect. Come dance with me,” said Toby, pulling her out of the shadows and into the grand hall. “I want to waltz with you.” He glanced at Ms. Yoder. She shook her head “yes.”

And so they danced. And all the guests, especially the young women, were dismayed. From that dance on, Toby and the homeliest girl in Monkton danced every dance at the Christmas Ball.

Around midnight, Ms. Yoder called to Toby that the time had come to leave. He said goodbye to Barbara Anne and gave her the piece of mistletoe that had magically appeared in his lapel, but first he held the mistletoe over her head and kissed her. No one in the great hall made a sound except for Barbara Anne’s mother who quietly sighed.

Toby took Ms. Yoder by the arm, thanked the Pindells, smiled at Perkins, the butler, and walked over to the sleigh. In almost an instant, they were back at Ms. Yoder’s cottage. The sleigh was a wheelbarrow; the horses were cats; and Toby was standing in his torn overalls and plaid shirt.

“Good night, Ms. Yoder,” he said, glancing at the wishing well. “I am glad I made the wish, but I understand tonight was magic. Tomorrow is not.” Toby headed back to Manor Mill and his cot in the basement. Ms. Yoder looked at the stars, smiled, and walked inside her cottage.

The next day Monkton was buzzing with talk about the Christmas Ball and especially about Toby Fisher. Barbara Anne was sweeping snow off the sidewalk to her house and wondering if Toby would kiss her again. Probably not, she decided. In her heart, she knew last night was magic.

When Toby awoke, he didn’t remember the Faerie Queen, but he did remember the Christmas Ball. How he got there, what he did, he wasn’t sure. He did remember dancing, especially with Barbara Anne.

He was trying to figure out what happened when Bud pushed back the bed curtain to his cot and yelled, “Here he is, men, the king of the Christmas Ball!” Toby looked up from his bed. He was surrounded by the Mill workers, and even Mr. Jenkins. “Toby, you are the hero of the town. You are famous in Monkton! And, I might add, the most handsome lad in the village.”

Toby felt his face. His face was smooth. He jumped out of bed, ran over to the broken mirror hanging on the basement wall and looked. The scars were gone. The pox marks were gone. His face was still clear! He hurriedly dressed for work.

When he arrived at the cottage, he was greeted by the dogs and cats as usual. Ms. Yoder called him in for breakfast as she had done for almost a year. She smiled when he took off his cap and rubbed his face. “Yes,” she said, “the Faerie Queen decided to let you keep a bit of the magic.”

And so, Toby rebuilt the cottage until it was the most beautiful house in Monkton. He became a very busy carpenter for many families, but he always had time to keep the wishing well in the best of shape. Ms. Yoder continued to invite the children to throw pennies in the well and make wishes. The blue bucket sang its tune, the cats took their rides, the dogs barked. Toby visited Barbara Anne often and walked with her along the Gunpowder River.

One very early spring morning, Barbara Anne arrived at the cottage before Toby. Ms. Yoder saw her from the parlor window and watched as she threw a penny into the wishing well. Ms. Yoder knew what she was wishing.

That evening Toby and Barbara Anne were walking near the Gunpowder when Toby said quietly, “Barbara Anne will you marry me.”

“But” said Barbara Anne, “you are so handsome, and I am so homely.”

“You are beautiful to me,” Toby whispered.

Ms. Yoder was very happy. In a few weeks, Toby and Barbara Anne had a lovely wedding at the Methodist Church, and Mr. Jenkins gave them a big reception at Manor Mill. Everyone said Barbara Anne was beautiful.

That very day, Ms. Yoder announced she was taking a trip to Scotland. She asked Toby and Barbara Anne to live in the cottage and to take care of her house, her barn, her cats, her dogs, and, of course, the wishing well. They said yes.

Ms. Yoder never returned to Monkton. A few months after she left the village, a lawyer arrived from Baltimore. He brought with him some papers. Ms. Yoder had given the house and all the property to Toby forever, but he must always keep the wishing well.

The fame of the wishing well grew. Children continued to come as did their parents. Young people came. Old people came. Customers of the Manor Mill came. Visitors to Monkton came. Many young women, especially brides, came to the well. They threw in their pennies and wished for a marriage like Toby’s and Barbara Anne’s.

Matilda, alias Ms. Yoder, kept her eye on Toby and the wishing well from her new home among the faerie castles on Scotland’s rugged northern coastline. Sometimes she granted wishes; sometimes she didn’t. Faeries can do that from afar. When the Faerie Queen asked her about Toby and Barbara Anne, Matilda looked up at the sky, the same sky that hovered over the wishing well in Monkton, and said, with quiet assurance, “They are living happily ever after.”

“Life truly is the most wonderful faerie tale.”

Hans Christian Anderson

Faerie Tale Trilogy