In this introductory page are three of Victoria’s fables.
- The Gingerbread Man is used in Victoria’s Self-help Coaching practice
- Stone Soup is a historical fable which also fits the category of memoirs
- Tony’s Rock Shop is a shorter example of a memoir fable
These samples are to give you an idea of what your own ‘memoirs’ fable would look like. If you would like Victoria to write one for you, please go to Memoirs
If you would like to read an inspiring story each night, please click on Books where you will be able to purchase a real book, an e-book or a CD.
Fables are brief inspirational stories which tend to use non-human characters in order to engage and guide readers to their own inner wisdom as they process the story. The ego is not threatened and so puts up no defence.
Victoria Fabling had a ready-made clue as to how to communicate truth in her last name. She has been writing since the age of eight and although her stories seem child-like, there is a method to this style; children speak from and to the heart, and this is where true wisdom resides. Victoria’s intent is to inspire, thus enabling you, the reader, to think out of the box and grow.
Fables are published, weekly, via Victoria’s holistic website, which automatically uploads a new one. To receive your FREE emailed story each week, click on www.myspiritualmentor.com and look to the right, where you will see an orange box called SIGN UP. You would then ‘tick’ the Inspirational Stories option.
Gingerbread Man was a self-invented phenomenon. He was once just a germ of a thought in the creative soup of life’s possibilities; indeed he stayed that way for many months. He tried to impress his idea, yet still he stayed a germ of a thought, much to his frustration, as you can imagine. Towards the end of one evening he grew tired of knocking on closed minds and he accidentally relaxed into his life’s mission. “To teach individuals a way of fully becoming a character part which may be difficult for them to access.”
It seemed that at the exact moment he revealed unto his thought how he would like to serve, the inspiration plopped into Flora’s mind as she slept. The next day was baking day for Flora, and she knew exactly what she wanted to do with the left-over pastry. She would add a few extra ingredients and fashion a human look-alike. He, in turn, would teach her something valuable. She was sure.
When Gingerbread Man had cooled down from being baked, Flora lovingly piped some eyes, a mouth and buttons, using icing sugar. Gingerbread Man was propped up against a vase of flowers on the kitchen table, looking very handsome and definitely too good to eat. Flora then brought a cup of tea to the table and sat down to relax. Where had the idea to make him come from? With her wondering came an answer – Gingerbread Man said he had come to help her be whatever she felt she needed.
“Wow! Did my cookie just offer to be my agent?”
“Yes”, said Gingerbread Man, “you can think of me that way, although I’m really here to bring out a part of you that doesn’t get much practise. What do you feel you need to express, Flora?”
Flora instinctively knew that this was a real interaction, a special opportunity to push past a challenge that had been bugging her.
“I need to be more confident” was her immediate reply.
“Pay close attention then and I’ll show you how to make a confident agent and step into him. Close your eyes to see, imagine yourself creating another gingerbread man whose whole essence is confidence; design his stage presence, then take a step forward to where he is standing and ….”
“Step into him!” interrupted Flora.
“You’ve got it! How does it feel?”
“It feels like I am bigger, more powerful and am projecting my voice from a strong place which stores an infinite reservoir of ideas.”
Gingerbread Man winked, upturning his icing sugar mouth into a smile. He was happy to have achieved his goal. Gingerbread Man waved, and then started to run, for he wanted to share this technique with as many children and adults as possible. To be eaten wasn’t his idea of fun.
Flora often walks into the Confidence cookie, bringing it to life. She stepped into Delight’s shoes recently. Delight was decorated like a Christmas tree, and to Flora’s absolute joy she noticed a regular pine tree with a star on top, encouraging her to shine.
Gingerbread Man created Practical Pray,
To help us draw what we’ll be today.
We envisage a part, which is really play
And whatever we choose to be, we may!
© Victoria Fabling
17 March 2010
This enchanting fable was recounted to me by Colin Skaken, a Romanian doctor.
Once upon a time the smaller countries bordering on Austria and Russia all had roaming armies. The soldiers were more like peace-keepers or facilitators than aggressors. They walked across borders on foot and often found tribes within the same country fighting for or against small differences of opinion. To see a group of a dozen soldiers from a foreign land was usually a blessing for the natives, so they would typically greet the men and ask for “treasure” from the world outside. Most people were poor, or imagined they were, because they had not yet learnt to cooperate.
The soldiers became trusted visitors. Their teaching method for community-building was simple; it worked then and still works. The men arrived looking efficient and in control. They were tired and hungry, but they didn’t let on. They would set up camp, light a fire, fill a huge pot with water from a nearby stream or well, and place a single, smooth rock in this prized pot. People, being curious, would ask what they were cooking – you’ve already guessed the answer – rock soup. The soldiers always invited the community to share supper with them, and suggested they may each like to contribute something, some potatoes, herbs, radishes, or a pinch of salt. Garlic was a very popular ingredient and usually one of the women produced a succulent bone. The smell of supper would then waft around town, acting as a silent town-crier – come one, come all, bring a bowl and a shawl.
Soldiers and strangers swapped stories around the fire until very late. There was, of course, some truth in every tale. Did you know that there was a prince of Romania who used to travel incognito, without supplies, visiting the local people, accepting their hospitality, getting to know them, their hopes and dreams for the future? He needed to do this in order to be a good king. In one town he met a beautiful woman. He could tell that she needed to follow her passion to be a naturopath, so he paid for her to go to Vienna to study. This woman was the doctor’s sister, who in turn motivated him to re-train as a naturopath, so he could set up a new life in Canada.
Next time you hear stories over a pot-luck dinner, consider that you may be witnessing the far-reaching ripples of opportunity, the makings of history. And, what happened to these natives? They are all free people now, members of the European Union, which gives them the right to cross borders and oceans to fulfill their dreams.
© Victoria Fabling
Tony’s Rock Shop
Was a marvellous place, a treasure house of gem stones for collectors and rock-lovers like me. In the spring of 2007 I went to this shop to buy a big citrine. Tony was embarrassed to have to admit that his heart surgery had resulted in the apparent deletion of a large chunk of his memory. He did not have any idea about citrine. He wanted, instead, to tell me a significant story that was foremost in his mind.
Seventy six years ago, Tony had to leave the family farm on the prairies. His father had just bought a tractor so the offspring were no longer needed as farmhands. At the age of thirteen, Tony set off to make his way in the world. He started walking to the big city, Toronto.
Many days later when he was tired, hungry and had worn holes in his shoes, he came across a man leaning against a lamp-post, smoking a cigarette. Tony asked him if he knew where he could find work because he was hungry. The man told him that there was a railroad being built another four hours walk away, and that the foreman would pay cash. He insisted on buying Tony breakfast, then the two parted ways.
Tony continued walking for a few hours, and found the railroad. On the way he met another man; this one offered him water and a huge pair of workman’s boots, “to save your feet.” The man sure seemed to ask a lot of questions, but the boy was glad of the water and the boots.
Tony worked on the railroad until the weather got too cold, then he set about retracing his steps back to the prairies. When he reached the same lamp-post, (in the middle of nowhere!) he recognized the guy who had bought him breakfast and directed him to his twenty-five cents an hour job.
The boy was pleased to see him and asked where he was heading, assuming, that he was, indeed, heading somewhere. “Oh, to Montreal for Christmas, but I had to abandon the idea because I didn’t have enough money,” to which Tony replied, “How much more do you need?” “Well $100 should do it.” Tony dipped his hand into his back pocket, “I just happen to have a spare $100,” and gave a wad of notes to the man still leaning on the lamp-post.
I share this story because it gives moral direction. The leaning on the lamp-post guy seemed ‘other worldly,’ but Tony felt he did the right thing at the right time. The man who’d given him water and boots, then asked a lot of questions about where he’d come from, turned out to be an uncle, only Tony wasn’t to know this until he made it back to the farm.
© Victoria Fabling