It begins with a boy and a girl.  They are brother and sister, so this is not a romantic tale.  The important fact that the story begins with two siblings means that this is a teaching tale, and that we—each of us, male and female–have something to learn.  This has something to do with communal memories and a shared past that is meant to be passed on in the oldest manner known: through story.  As the listeners, we are drawn into the dark and forbidding forest as Hansel and Gretel[1] embark on the quest that will determine their future.  We make a mistake if we think they are fleeing the past; in that liminal moment when the hero and/or heroine decides to take that momentous step forward into the Uncertain Future the Self is formed, along with all the interstitial power of Possibility inherent to this process.  Before that pivotal first step, any direction is possible, and thus, a myriad of potential outcomes await.  Ahead, both danger and wonder lurk in potentially equal measure.  This is partly why we say what qualifies a person as a hero or a heroine is that that the hero is both willing and worthy.  Choice is involved from the first moments, even when the outcome is uncertain or unknown.  

The wonderful story of Hansel and Gretel also reveals to us how important is that aspect of worthiness, though this 

 might be measured differently depending on who and when.  Folk tales are  simultaneously universal and particular.  Common virtues bind all people generally throughout time, so we find similar tales throughout history.  We could almost say there are no new stories, just versions adapted for the particulars of each region, if we understand that the stories of each group of people were passed on orally and then adapted according to the living conditions and the needs of the people who “owned” the tales.   

My Gramma Bea was a master storyteller.  She lived in the northern-most tip of Maine, so every winter she came to stay with us in California where it was warm.  My childhood is full of laptime with my grandmother reading to me, wisdom imparted from across the room via the comfort of a wise woman in sturdy shoes –even at 6am–who spoke in that matter-of-fact way of a downeaster  of “the way things are” while she simultaneoulsy concocted applesauce cake or poured “real” maple syrup on my pancakes.  I will forever be the product of her efforts to pass on what it is to be human.  It is difficult to imagine the me without the memory of her deep inside, including snuggle time with Gramma Bea, because she stayed in my room, lucky me, and at night when I was scared, she would climb in bed with me, wrapping her warm, flannel-nightgown-covered arms around me:  “What’s wrong, Little Gabrielle?” she would ask, and I would tell her about my fears and night horrors.  “Really?” she would say, and even though it was dark, even now, I vividly picture her face, solemnly pondering my dilemma as if it were the most serious of considerations.  “Well, let me tell you about. . . .” she would begin, and then she would embark on one of the old stories of long ago.  I  never questioned the amazing coincidence of the heroine. . . “Once there was a girl named Gabrielle.”  I would ask “How old was she?”  and she would answer, “Oh, I believe she was just about your age, oh my…isn’t that interesting?”  I was enthralled and soothed.  I was formed early in my youth and well into adulthood.  When I later encountered these tales of long ago, they felt like old friends; I recognized my sisters and mothers from the many histories of communal memory that shaped their world and mine.       

Those aspects of folk and fairy tale are the pieces of communal memory that link us together, and must be shared as we affirm our humanity and attempt to bridge the gap of generations, fears & joys, miscommunications, calamities, differences, defeats, jubilations, and other commonalities that bind & separate us equally.   The particulars of a story that have existed time-out-of-mind restore the memory banks of what needs to be passed on to the next generation. . . and the next:  all those “things” that have been forgotten:  just as two children who are lost in the woods might need to recall macro & micro knowledge in order to survive a new and potentially hostile environment.  We KNOW the woods exist, but can we go there and find our way there too?  

 All who set out on the quest do not discover the wherewithal required for the self individuation that will allow them to become who they feel they are called to be.  Wishing doesn’t make it so.  ‘Should’ is not a concrete concept.  Like Hansel & Gretel, we do not always know why we feel called or from where the call originates.  Sometimes we just know we have to GO!  Maybe our parents are the ones pushing, knowing something we do not!!  So the Little Brother and the Little Sister venture forth. . .or do they? 

It is interesting that Hansel and Gretel know this is their time to go and their parents are very involved in ensuring that their son and daughter move on to the next phase in life.  In some versions the mother is more vehement and even has to convince the father.  In the middle of the night, Mother and Father talk about their children’s new lives, and how they must go live on their own.  And that’s just it, isn’t it?  No one else can be the “self” for us!  All the teaching and learning in the world is only worth what we make of it individually.  Unfortunately, what Hansel and Gretel overhear makes them anxious—even afraid.   Hansel gathers the means to return back home in the form of little white rocks, which he puts in his pockets.  The pebbles anchor him to his childhood home, and Gretel stays close to Hansel.  Despite Mother’s and Father’s efforts to leave them in the big, wide world, the trail they leave leads them right back home even without the presence of their parents.

What happened?  And what about those little pebbles in Hansel’s pockets; what do they signify?  How difficult is it to leave a place when we don’t really leave; when we take it with us in pieces and fragments in our pockets or other places of our minds and hearts that serve to forge a path that pulls us backwards rather than a beacon of strength to guide or impel us forward?  

Sometimes it seems too difficult to make it on our own in the cold, dark woods without the creature comforts to which we’ve grown accustomed.  This is a familiar phenomenon.  In modern day, the trend has become so common that it has a name:  Boomerang Kids.  The phenomenon of college students who graduate only to return home to live with their parents is on the rise.  Many do not find work, and even more simply decide to continue living at home, in fact: 40% of 2006 graduates remain or have returned to their parent’s homes.    

Back to the woods with Hansel and Gretel and their parents’ sending them away, again!  The particulars of this tale (once it is codified by the Brothers Grimm) tell us the context of this version of the story:  certainly this is a time of scarcity and perhaps even fear.  The ubiquitous and dangerous woods were omnipresent.  If the tale had been written in today’s modern world with the current economic fears and obsession with Wall Stree figures along with inner city crime, could a parallel be drawn?  How do parents send their children off into the jungle that is the great big, wide, scary world to fend for themselves?

The next time Hansel and Gretel leave, there will be no pebbles; no mementos.  Mother and Father leave them in the woods with only a bit of bread. 

 We have to go to the woods; all fairy tales suggest this universal truth.  Even Little Red Riding Hood’s mother warns her daughter of the dangers lurking in the woods, yet nevertheless sends Red Riding Hood with the crucial bread to meet the old woman in the forest!   

What do Hansel and Gretel do?  They can think of only one thing:  we need to go home!  So they squander their bread on laying a trail, but there is no going home of course, and they soon become lost in the woods.  Apparently even heaven conspires against them for birds eat the bread crumb trail.  If we have not already realized it, now we know that something beyond our own understanding is happening here, because the gods do not want the children to return home.  We know this, because the presence of birds in the story always speaks of a heavenly presence.  

Even so, we feel for these poor, pitiful children left all alone in the forest.  We might even be outraged at this seeming abandonment.  Leaving one’s child to fend for him or her self:  is this right?  Fair? Natural?  Did Mother and Father provide enough training & teaching before they left them in the woods?  Were they given enough food?  Did they absorb enough hugs & kisses?   Is it EVER enough and how do we know?  Hansel & Gretel, alone in the woods, bereft and hungry, abandoned by those who were supposed to “love” them most of all people in the whole wide world….and now, they will experience “the world” as it is exemplified by the scariest, most mysterious, dark version of it:  the deep, dark, woods! 

The tale is ambiguous enough that it applies to everyone.  The children are left alone as are all of us once it is time to grow up.  Decisions must be made.  Whatever was learned in childhood or young adulthood (whosever fault that is or is not) will now be part of the path they tread.  They must make the most of it.  Hansel hears what sounds like a chopping axe, and he thinks of his father, but he is not sure how to make the sound himself.  He runs after the chopping sound thinking to find his father, never once imagining that it might be HIS responsibility to duplicate it here, in the woods, where trees mean shelter and warmth.  Soon the children are hopelessly lost, and they will have to find another way to learn how to become who they are called to be.    

Some people never find the path through the woods, but because this is a teaching tale,   Hansel & Gretel are about to encounter one of the oldest figures of fairy tale: the crone.  Will they pass the test and emerge triumphant?  They find the path and come to a clearing with a fantastical cottage.  It seems as though it has been waiting just for them . . . and perhaps it has?  Is this what they’ve been taught to do/how to be?  Remember, this is a Teaching Tale.  

Once again, the Little Brother and the Little Sister venture forth. . . 

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[1] The original tales in the German region referred only to “the Little Sister” and “the Little Brother” but the Brothers Grimm popularized the story using the German version of John and Jane Doe:  Hansel and Gretel, which codified what was a universal tale into that particular version ever since.