Epilogue – The Curse of the Ring; Yubaba’s Redemption

Tired old Yubaba was sitting in her hut, waiting for the sunset, mumbling to herself. She tried to remember all the spells she had cast with her magical powers, but she couldn’t remember them one by one anymore. Now, she had grown old and was forgetting the works of her youth; she could no longer remember all the pain she had caused. After a few minutes of silence, the sunset-red flickering sky filled her eyes, and one faint memory slowly and dimly came into her head.

She had been strong, wicked and cruel. Nobody could disobey her because she controlled them by stealing their names – except for one small girl named Chihiro. She had eventually lost count of the years since Chihiro had returned to her own world through the tunnel where she first stepped this world. The kaleidoscope of fractured memories made it hard to form a picture, but she knew that somehow Chihiro had kept her name, and defeated Yubaba. Abruptly she returned to the present, and angry she ordered her crow to spy out a new victim. For the first time, the crow refused her and she had to content herself with throwing a pebble at its small black head.

She, who had always been resistant to emotions from, actually was hit with the blues. She realised that the power of her magic wasn’t actually limitless as she had believed all her life. She muttered away again.

She felt her eyelids melt down, so she just sat and half listened to the sweet sound of the birds singing. Slowly she realised that a little girl was approaching her hut, making her way through the forest flowers. Was it Chihiro, thought the old witch, come to mock her? The girl was carrying a small white birch basket filled of flowers. Yubaba tried to think of herself like a spider which sensed something trapped in its web, soon she would strike. But instead she rather felt rather glad to have someone visit her on such a gloomy night, so she welcomed the little girl.

“Are you by chance an old witch?” The girl asked the question without any hesitation as her sparkling black eyes looked into Yubaba’s face. Yubaba was confounded. She couldn’t answer, she just asked the little girl to seat herself and asked what the little girl knew about witches.

“Smell these flowers!” The girl said, in a gentle voice.
“They are the most beautiful flowers in this forest. I’ll give them to you because you are too old to stoop to pick a flower.” The girl kept speaking.
“I live on the opposite side of the forest and I come out to pick flowers everyday. I lost my way when I passed through a strange tunnel.”
Yubaba listened to what the little girl was saying; she even forgot to smell the flowers that the little girl passed to her hands. It was strange to have someone seem friendly, and unafraid of her power.

‘Obviously this little girl doesn’t know anything about me, or about witches.’ Yubaba thought. After a little while, Yubaba asked.
“Little girl, do you know what witches look like or what they do?”

“I think witches must be like angels. They transform big stones into fresh golden-coloured bread, transform the dew on a blade of grass into milk and honey for poor children, make rain to bless the flowers, and guide lost animals home. If they see a dying child they can bring life-giving water to the child. Wherever something happens that God doesn’t like then the witches can straighten it out before they get worse.”

Yubaba listened attentively, her hands shook slightly and she couldn’t take her eyes from the little girl.

“Who told you that?” she asked.

“When I picked flowers in the warm wind, I knew it was possible, and when I met you I felt that you had the power do these things.”

Yubaba invited the little girl into her hut. Hot soup appeared on the table, and gold-coloured bread. She said to the little girl “eat as much as you like, there is more if you need it”. When the dinner was finished, a bed spread with white was appeared, and the little girl fell in sleep as soon as she lay down.

But Yubaba stayed by the fireplace, watching the little girl as she slept.
“What is wrong with me?” She wondered. “Why have I not taken her name and made her my slave?” And she looked into the flames for an answer, and then she quietly drifted out into the night.

When the little girl woke up she rubbed her eyes and looke around; it took a little time for her to remember what had happened to her. Then she noticed that the table was laid for breakfast. She was hungry and so she sat at the table and happily ate the food that had been prepared. She felt sure that the witch would be back as soon as she had finished whatever she was doing.

However it was the crow that came into the hut, not Yubaba.
While the crow was grooming his feathers he glanced up the little girl’s face, and then laughed as though he had a secret joke. The girl was a little surprised, as she hadn’t expected even a witch’s crow to laugh. So she was even more surprised when it spoke.

The crow asked the little girl to talk about what witches do once again, because he never heard such a funny story. He kept saying that he had never heard of angels transforming children into animals, or flowers into thorny thickets, or stealing names from little girls. And he laughed aloud again.

The little girl was upset by this and so she threw a stone at him, and then waited for the old witch to return to her. When Yubaba returned and saw the little girl sitting on the chair, she felt her heart get heavy.

“I have been talking to the crow”, the little girl asked.

“Do you believe that what the crow said is true?” asked the old witch.

“I know it is true” said the girl. “I am named Chihiro, after my mother.”
Yubaba’s face went pale, but before she could speak, the girl continued.
“I also know that you helped my mother, and loved your son, so the warm wind over the flowers also spoke truly. My mother talked of you, and wondered if you too had lost your name.”

“I tried to fix a part of my life, last night...” whispered the old woman, “…I went out and tried to help those I had hurt, but I couldn’t remember all their names, I couldn’t find them.”

After a while, the little girl asked.

“Is there any way to remember them again?”

Yubaba hesitated for a long while before she spoke.
“There is no need. I too have been under a curse, corrupted by my absolute power; a power that fed on the fear of others. Your faith in me, coming here although you know the truth, has broken my power. Without that, the spells are broken too, and undone. .”

The little girl looked up Yubaba for a while and said.

“My mother said that sometimes we can forget who we are, but that we can also forget what we have been…would you like to come home?”