Cross-fertilization of folktales is a relatively common phenomenon. However, it usually takes the form of a subtle expropriation of a character type or storyteller. When this borrowing occurs between ethnic groups and races, it is common for the borrowers to be in complete denial about the origin of the story.

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There is little in the way of open story-grafting between distinct groups. Such folklore transfers are only admitted between members of larger extended families. Thus, the storytellers' unspoken code permits Ottawa to Ojibwe, Russian to Ukrainian, and Swiss to German borrowing.

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Mobility and intermarriage serve to create some unique stories in the modern global building. One can find a family blending Norwegian and Hmong traditions in the Chippewa Valley. In Milwaukee, another clan whips up a new tradition from their German and Tibetan components. Along the lower Wisconsin River, a war-weary Vietnam veteran and a Salvadoran survivor teach their children a vision of peace.

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Honesty compels an admission that considerable ambivalence exists toward the circumstances and relationships that generate these mixtures. Society is not nearly as accepting of refugees as our national myth would have us believe. War brides and other foreign spouses do not always find the welcome mat out in the in-laws' hometown.

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Such circumstances have a way of mellowing over time. Today's immigrants are tomorrow's old families. Long intervals of intergroup exchange can make for interesting story stews. The story below is the most self-conscious and overt mixture I could find.

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Mary Helene, a thirty-something red-haired waitress in St. Croix Falls, knows this tale from repeated family telling. Stop in at her cafe and wait for the breakfast rush to end.

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The Little People are the special beings of the St. Croix River.

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They are special in many ways. Special because they are magical and act out of good intentions. And special because they came about through a melange of traditions.

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In my Irish family--with bits of French and Chippewa thrown in--it is said that the Little People along the river resulted from the combination of Chippewa little beings, Irish leprechauns, German elves, and European wood sprites.

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But we know the Irish element is still strong. The Little People--men and women--still smoke the clay pipes, and their hats and bonnets still have the look of County Cork.

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Now, for most people, this is a touching story of the virtues of cooperation and good that come from the mingling of peoples and traditions. For a few thickheads, it is proof of the perversions of miscegenation.

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The Little People are the guardians of the St. Croix River. The old Ojibwe little beings had a long tradition of calming the lakes and rivers. They still do that up in the Boundary Waters. But in this area they intermarried with leprechauns and such and acquired more skills.

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​My pagan women friends tell me that the cross-breeding of different supernatural beings usually makes for a bad combination. They say if you cross a North American Manitou with a German poltergeist or a Scottish bodach you end up with a psycho-spirit on drugs. The leprechaun and Little Beings cross went the opposite direction. Almost like angels, or at least cherubs.

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The resulting Little People are an odd assortment of women with freckled high cheekbones and auburn braids and dark-haired men with blue eyes. They can be found from Osceola up to Danbury.

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It is said that the Littpe People are visible only to children. I saw them as a child. But I could swear I've glimpsed them since then. As children, we had a way to communicate with them that involved whispering into cracks in rocks where springs gurgled out. Then we listened to the bubbling and dripping to hear the reply.

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It was said if that if you whispered the name of someone polluting the water into the spring crack, that the Little People would take action. They would muddy that person's well water and make their tap water run filthy. Their bathroom shower would spray sewage and their toilet ran with blood. Not to mention the vomiting and the runs that they gave a polluter.

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The messages in those bubbling springs are said to be many. The Little People are fine teachers. They talk mostly of living in harmony with the Earth. How to care for the waters. How to care for the plants and animals. And how different people can live in harmony with each other.

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All the lessons of all time are in that bubbling water. Listen and the Little People will tell how all life came out of water and how everything is washed down the rivers and into the sea in the end. They know all the secrets of the creeks, lakes, and oceans. They know the secrets of sharing water and blood.