any resemblance to any persons or situations, either real, or non-existent, is purely coincidental.
once upon a time… in the very far countryside, lived a great-grandma and her great-granddaughter. they lived together in a small, but rather comfortable log cabin. of course, there were only two rooms, one for days, the other for nights. they were not rich, but they didn't need a lot: they had a sheep for wool, a donkey for milk and a goose for eggs. they loved each other dearly, which is the most important thing.
cunegonde never knew her parents and she didn't miss them. she was a happy little girl, and as spoiled as possible. on the other hand, her great-grandma was sad sometimes. oh, she didn't really show it, but from time to time, there was like a dark cloud about her face, for a very brief moment. poor old woman, she had first lost her daughter, then her grand-daughter. cunegonde was all she had in the world. and cunegonde didn't know anybody except her great-grandma. except of course father nicholas, the priest.
actually, many people chattered about this little girl and that old twisted woman living alone in the big woods. some even said that great-grandma was a witch. you know how people are ...
that morning, cunegonde knew immediately that something strange had happened. the fireplace was cold, the teapot was empty and great grandma was still asleep.
— granny, said cunegonde, it's late. wake up granny!
but granny didn't move. she was so pale and so cold!
cunegonde was very anxious. "what should i do?" she tried to light the fire, but of course she failed. she was so young!
so she took a shawl and ran, ran, ran through the big woods to the church house.
— reverend, she said, reverend, come with me please, granny doesn't want to wake up!
father nicholas took his bindlestiff and ran, ran, ran through the big woods to the cabin. alas, granny was dead!
— what does 'dead' mean? cunegonde asked.
father nicholas took off his hat and stayed mute for a very long time! then he said "her life here is over, cunegonde! nevermore will you hear her, nevermore will she cuddle you. but where ever you go, whatever you do, she'll be next to you. never forget her, cunegonde, never!"
so, very slowly first, cunegonde cried, cried, cried for the first time in her life. not really for the first time, of course, she also cried the day she fell from the roof.
cunegonde had just met sadness.
reverend nicholas and his wife were very nice and loving people. alas, they had twelve children and they couldn't feed another little girl.
— cunegonde, we feel so sorry, but you must live in an orphanage now, said father nicholas with tears in his eyes. you can't stay alone. your great grandma told me one day "cunegonde must keep amelia the goose with her. whatever happens she must keep her." this is her wish, cunegonde!