Deep in the woods, among the ferns and thick, tall bushes, lived a wood sprite. He was a scary little green man. He wore ragged clothes, a hat made of leaves and dry branches, and he always walked barefoot. He looked just like a ghost.
He roamed the forest, scaring people. But do you know what a wood sprite does to scare people? He howls. When he howls, it’s as if all the trees and rocks are crashing down and the earth is shaking.
This wood sprite was proud of his voice. No one could pass by without him shouting at them and making them run away in fear. He took great pleasure in frightening people. But one day, after yelling too much and straining his throat, he became hoarse. He was completely miserable.
He wandered the forest with his head hung low, lamenting, “What am I going to do?! What am I going to do?! What kind of wood sprite am I if I can’t shout or scare anyone?!”
A nightingale, fluttering about the forest, heard his complaints. The little bird listened for a while and then took pity on him. It flew down, perched on his shoulder, and said:
“I may know someone who can help you! There’s a doctor on the hill beyond the forest. He’ll surely cure your voice.”
“Do you really think so, nightingale? I’m not sure…I’ve only ever scared people. Why would anyone help me?” sighed the sprite sadly.
“The doctor has a kind heart,” replied the nightingale. “You’ll see, he’ll help you. Besides, no one can stand hearing you with such a croaky voice. Go see him and say hello from me,” said the nightingale and flew away.
The wood sprite hesitated for a while, but at last set off for the hill behind the forest. At the very top stood a small house with a large sign that read: “Doctor’s Office. Specialist in all kinds of things.” The wood sprite knocked nervously and went inside.
He didn’t come out for a long time. The doctor wasn’t afraid of him. On the contrary. He examined his throat carefully, wrote down which herbs he should use as medicine, and then talked to him for a long time. Nobody knew what about.
Soon, the herbs took effect and the wood sprite’s voice grew clearer than a bell. But something had changed. Though he still looked like a ghost, he no longer scared people. Instead, he wandered the forest, singing cheerfully and loudly. His songs echoed so far that even the doctor on the hill could hear them.
Curious, the nightingale flew back to him and asked, “What happened to you? Why are you singing instead of screaming? Why don’t you scare anyone anymore?“
The wood sprite just smiled and explained to the nightingale how it was: ”You see, my dear nightingale, the doctor examined me, gave me some herbs, and then talked to me. He told me that if I sang instead of yelling, I wouldn’t strain my voice so much. And that it’s better to make people happy with your voice than to terrify them. He even said I had a beautiful voice—it would be a shame to waste it just on shouting. And you know what? He was right. I enjoy singing far more than I ever enjoyed yelling in the forest. Now I have many more friends, people and animals aren’t afraid of me anymore.”
The nightingale smiled and praised the sprite. The little bird was very happy that he had changed so much. And it liked him a lot better. It was a good thing it had sent him to the doctor!