Firlefanz and the Postman of the Wind
In the middle of the night, an old letter flutters through Firlefanz's window. Who could it belong to?
When Firlefanz opened his eyes that morning, something fluttered softly through his open window. It was an old, yellowish piece of paper that gently landed on his blanket. Carefully, he took it in his paws. It was a letter — beautifully written, with a small wax seal. "Who could have lost you?" whispered Firlefanz.
At breakfast, Firlefanz nibbled on a warm rose hip slice and drank a cup of chamomile tea. The old letter lay next to his plate and rustled softly, as if it were talking to the wind. Firlefanz couldn't stop thinking: Who might have waited so long for this letter?
Firlefanz quickly ran over to Papalapapp. He was sitting on the porch, drinking his morning coffee. "Look, Papalapapp — this letter flew to me last night!" Papalapapp examined the seal and nodded slowly. "This is a forgotten letter. Only Flüster, the postman of the wind, can tell us who it belongs to. Come, let's find him."
Firlefanz got his soft travel coat, sturdy boots, walking stick, and small backpack. Papalapapp put on his wide hat and packed a bag of apple pie for the journey. Firlefanz wrapped the old letter in a cloth and placed it in his backpack. Then they waved goodbye to their little house.
Together, they wandered over seven seas, through seven deserts, over seven mountains, along seven rivers, through seven forests, over seven bridges, and through seven windy valleys. Everywhere they went, a gentle wind tickled their ears — as if it were showing them the way.
Finally, they reached a small, round hill. At the top stood a tiny house with colorful mailboxes hanging everywhere. Out of the door came a fluffy little creature wearing a crooked postman's hat and many pouches on its belt. "Welcome!" it called with a bright, friendly voice. "I am Flüster, the postman of the wind."
Flüster led them inside. Forgotten letters were piled everywhere — some dusty, some yellowed, some still tightly sealed. "Here I collect everything the wind loses on its way," Flüster said softly. Firlefanz pulled out his old letter. Flüster looked at it for a long time. "Oh — it has been waiting for a very, very long time. It is for Knurr, the old lighthouse keeper by the calm sea."
Flüster whistled a soft, cheerful whistle. Immediately, a friendly wind floated in and stopped at the door. "Climb on!" laughed Flüster. The wind gently lifted them up, light as feathers. They floated over clouds and hills, and below them, everything sparkled in the warm evening light. Firlefanz held the letter tightly.
Soon they saw a small, old lighthouse on a rocky little island in the middle of the calm sea. The wind carefully set them down in front of the door. Knock, knock, Firlefanz made softly. Out came an old, cozy turtle wearing a warm knitted hat. "Oh!" she exclaimed in surprise. "Visitors! I haven't had those in ages."
Firlefanz handed the letter to Knurr. He put on his little reading glasses and read it very slowly and quietly. Then he smiled gently. "This is from my very best friend, a long, long time ago. He wishes me all the best for my birthday." A small, happy tear rolled down his cheek. "Finally, it has arrived. Thank you so very much."
Knurr put a kettle on and served everyone a warm piece of honey cake. They sat together on the small balcony of the lighthouse and watched the stars rise. The sea lay still like a mirror. Then Flüster said softly: "It's time to travel home." Knurr hugged Firlefanz. "Come visit me again soon."
When Firlefanz and Papalapapp stood back in their garden, the sun was just setting. Above them, the first stars were shining, and a very gentle wind brushed against Firlefanz — as if it were saying thank you. Firlefanz yawned, leaned against Papalapapp, and whispered: "What a beautiful adventure." Then he fell into a deep and happy sleep.