Imagination

Imagination

“Mommy?” Sandra looked up as her granddaughter come in. “The light in my room keeps wanting to play.”

“The light?” her mother asked.

“The one that dances. Usually she sleeps at night but tonight she won’t go to sleep!” she stamped her foot.

“Oh, Honey,” her mother, smiled, “you were dreaming! It’s just your imagination.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Honey, I’ll bring you back up.”

Sandra piped up, “How about I bring her up instead?”

“Oh, that would be lovely.” Mom said.

When they got to the room, Tara asked, “Was I dreaming Grammie?”

“Do you want it to be dreaming?”

“No, I really like the light. She’s very sweet.”

“I think she’s ready to tell you her name.”

“What?”

“When the light stays at night, she’s ready to tell you her name, to stay with you forever.”

“How do you know Grammie?”

“I have my own light,” a twinkly light appeared on her shoulder, “This is Tippy.”

Suddenly another light appeared, “There she is!” said Sandra, then she listened. “And, her name is Popper!”

“She’ll stay as long as you believe.”

“How do you know, why doesn’t Mum know?”

“Your mother never believed in fairies, you have to believe for them to stay. I’m so glad you do! And now Tippy will have a friend in the house!”

“Will Mommy be angry?”

“I never told your Mom about Tippy, you have to decide. You can talk to me, and Popper and Tippy. But, your Mom doesn’t believe in fairies, and that’s OK. We don’t want her to worry. You’ll need to decide.

“Let’s not for now,” said Tara, “I have enough trouble trying to get her to stop thinking I like carrots.”

“She still thinks I like raspberries!”

They laughed and laughed as their twinkly lights danced together around the room.