The Story
In the old Quebec village of Sainte-Marguerite, every child knew about the loup-garou — the wolf-man who prowled the forest on full moon nights. Parents kept the shutters bolted and the fires bright. Nobody went out after dark when the moon was round.
But twelve-year-old Émile had noticed something.
The large wolf that appeared at the edge of the village every full moon never actually bothered anyone. It paced back and forth along the treeline, looking not fierce but worried. Once, Émile had watched from his window as it sat down in the snow and put its head on its paws and made a low, mournful sound that was not quite a howl. It was more like a sigh.
He told his grandmother, who was old and knew many things.
"There are those," she said carefully, "who are caught in a curse not of their own making. The loup-garou cannot always help what happens to him. And there is only one way to break such a curse — someone must face him without fear and show him true kindness."
The next full moon, while his family slept, Émile put on his coat and boots, took a lantern and a piece of his mother's best maple-smoked ham, and went outside.
The wolf was there at the treeline, as he had expected. It saw him and went very still.
Émile held out the ham and said, "I'm not afraid of you. And I think you're hungry."
The wolf watched him for a long moment. Then it walked forward, slowly, and took the ham from his hand with the most careful, polite mouth Émile had ever seen.
As it ate, the moon went briefly behind a cloud. When it came back out, the wolf was gone — and in its place stood old Monsieur Beaupré from three farms over, who had been missing since October. He looked rumpled and confused and very relieved.
"The curse," he said slowly, "is broken. How did you know?"
"I didn't," said Émile. "I just thought you looked lonely."
They walked back to the village together, and Monsieur Beaupré went home to his family, who had been worrying for months. He always had a special fondness for Émile after that, and every Christmas he left a jar of the finest maple syrup on the doorstep, without a word.