In a far and distant land...

This story was overheard while drinking Chai in an open market. Please forgive this variation from the original, somewhere in the Arabian Nights.


In a far and distant land was a Sultan who loved his wife very much. He gave her gifts of rare and exceptional beauty to show how much he loved her. And when she became with a child, he was overjoyed. With anticipation the Sultan oversaw the creation of a vast garden.

The Sultana had gathered family near her in the hopes of having this child with great support and comfort, but that was not to be. Her two sisters were so jealous of their younger sister’s beauty and good fortune that they faked kindness in order to live in the beautiful estate.

As the time came for the birth, the Sultan postponed his hunting so he may be near. He waited and waited. And waited all night, until one of the sisters finally came to the Sultan.

“Sire, the Sultana has had...ah.”

“Well, spit it out woman!” shouted the Sultan.

“Sire, the Sultana has had a kitten.” the sister said with a bowed head.

“What silliness is this?” he burst into his wife’s chamber and there she lay all red in the face with a kitten mewing nearby. The Sultan was so shocked and angry that he ran from the room.

This unexplainable event happened two more times. The Sultana was in disgrace. She is said to have had a puppy and another kitten. The sisters secretly smiled satisfied with themselves as the Sultana cried, for surely the Sultan would banish her.

The Sultan and the Sultana lived separately until the day the Sultana quietly died in her sleep. Some would say she died of a broken heart. The Sultan truly mourned her. When he saw her in death, he had forgotten how truly he had loved her. And felt ashamed of his treatment of her.

The palace lingered in gloom but the garden had flourished under the guidance of an expert gardener. The Sultan would often go and visit the gardener and enjoy conversation and good company. One day while exploring the garden where it touched near the wild forest, he saw a young girl playing in a ruin of a teahouse. She had the lovely eyes of his beloved dead wife and thought she must be a ghost. As the Sultan came near, the child offered her play food to him. The Sultan spent a delightful afternoon with this child and assumed she belonged to the gardener or a servant.

The child asked if he would play with her tomorrow and he said he would. The next day a picnic awaited the Sultan. The spread was quite lovely. Except the sandwiches were made of mashed pearls and the water, mercury.

“What manner of food is this?” asked the Sultan. The child looked up and said it’s pretend food. “Ah yes,” chimed the Sultan. Then the little girl asked, “Have you ever heard of a grown woman giving birth to a kitten?” The Sultan gave her such a look., one that warned danger. “What do you mean by this question?” he felt a little hot with anger.

“My father is suppose to believe I was a kitten,” murmured the child. “ And who is your father?” asked the Sultan. “I do not know, but the gardener cares for me like I was his own.” The Sultan replied, “Let’s go visit the gardener.”

The Sultan pounded on the door of the gardener’s house. A fine, young boy answered the door. Upon seeing the angered Sultan he asked, “Sire, what has my little sister done?” The Sultan bristled, “May I come in?”

The gardener’s house was charming but small. The young boy fetched the old gardener, who came to greet the Sultan.

“I had no idea you had so many children,” the Sultan stated. “Why did you never mention them in all of our talks?”

“I didn’t know how to tell you.” Said the gardener. “I know plants. I know how to make things grow. “

“Surely, it’s a wonderful thing to say, ‘I have fine children, dear Sultan’.”

The gardener sat on a cushion and looked deeply into the Sultan’s eyes. “Sire, I would like to tell you a story…”

“My story begins when your beloved wife became with child. You hired me to create a wondrous garden. You wanted splendid places to play and hide for your child. My old wife and I had not been lucky with children. But soon after we came here, we heard crying outside; in a basket with fine blankets was a beautiful newborn boy. We gave him the best the Sultans land could offer.”

“And some time later, two more children arrived, a boy and a girl. We of course, knew something had happened. And we could not assume anything, sire. Word came down, the Sultana was in disgrace and we were not sure you were of, the right mind. My wife and I brought up these children as our own.”

The king looked at these children in their simple clothes and saw his beloved Sultana in each of them. “But how did this happen, really? “ mused the Sultan.

“I do not know, only that they appeared.” answered the gardener. The Sultan thought to himself. He took each child in his arms and apologized for his blindness.

The Sultan had allowed his wife’s sisters to stay in the palace and live a life of luxury. They had become spoiled and greedy. One night the Sultan had a trusted servant give the sisters the sweetest wine and a few key questions. In the dying candlelight, the sisters spilled the story of the Sultana’s labors were to three children. The sisters talked and laughed, belittling the Sultan’s wife. In the morning the sisters found their rooms changed to the lowest chambers of servants.

The Sultan spoke to them and asked them why they did such a thing. They just spat at him. Ungrateful for the life they lead and wept for themselves.

The Sultan came to the gardener’s house and wanted his children to love him, not because he was their father, but because they wanted to. Everyday he came to visit them and brought tutors and started to have a new house made for the Royal Gardener. Eventually the children came to live in the palace. But each day they spent in the garden with their adopted parents.

The unorthodox family unit created a strong bond of friendship and generosity. The Sultan told his children of their mother’s beauty and sweetness. He also told them what a joy they are to him and he could not imagine life without them.