Eileanóra was born a princess, and like all good fairy tales, she was cursed by a wicked sorceress who proclaimed on her 16th birthday that her sun would fail to rise, ending the kingdom.
Also, like all good fairy stories, her kindly fairy godmother softened the spell. Her father’s kingdom could be saved from devastation if, each morning, the girl called the morning on a magic harp given by the child’s grandmother.
To ensure that nothing would happen, the King, who once was a loving father, became obsessed with his throne and banished her to a small island off the coast.
There alone, except for a cat smuggled by a kindly fisherman, the child awoke before dawn, lit the fire, boiled the kettle for tea, and then sat down at her harp to call the morning.
So it went on year after year. News of her mother’s passing came on her 18th birthday, bringing hope that her father would relent and allow her to return home, but no news came with the next supply ship.
Nearing Eileanóra’s 21st birthday, the island was awash in a great maelstrom, causing the building to crumble under the pounding waves. The young woman and her cat sought refuge in one of the island’s remaining trees.
Fearing the kingdom’s end due to her failure to call the morning, Eileanóra awaited her death. To her surprise, the sun rose in the east, bringing a beautiful morning to the island.
“How can this be?” asked Eileanóra as she and the cat climbed down the tree to survey the storm’s destruction. “Could the spell be broken?” asked the woman aloud.
She did not have to wait long for her answer. On the horizon, a sailing craft rapidly approached. “Princess Eileanóra, I have grave news. Your father is dead. He failed to rise this morning, making you the new Queen,” said the King’s messenger.
Eileanóra thought about the sorcerer’s words on her return to the castle: “Her sun would fail to rise.”
“What a fool I have been. Papa was the sun, Mama the stars, and I the moon. Such a waste has befallen us because of a King’s greed for power,” whispered the woman.
We come to the end of this fairy story wiser than when we began, and like all good stories, the Queen and her cat lived happily ever after.
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