Magic Fairies

“Come on outside with me.” I took Mary’s hand.

We stood out in the dimming light. I pointed up to the trees.

“Do you believe in fairies?” I asked my little charge.

“I read about them in books. They’re little people that fly around.”

“Well, Mary, they come out here only at night. The daytime hurts their wings.”

We sat on the dampening grass. The sun had set, crickets started to chirp.

“They’ll be coming soon. It’s almost time.”

Mary laid her head in my lap, her eyes searched the tree branches for fairies.

“There’s one, do you see it?” I pointed to a firefly up near the top of the maple tree.

Mary jumped up. “Where? Where’s the fairy?”

“Oops, there’s another. They’re coming out now.”

“I don’t see any, gramma.” Mary sat down again.

“Ah, perhaps you need my special fairy glasses.” I produced a pair of swimming goggles from my pants pocket. “Put these on and maybe you can see them.”

In the time it took for Mary to put the goggles on, the lawn was alive with fireflies. They floated in and around the trees and shrubs.

“Oooohh! Magic fairy glasses, gramma! Look how many there are!”

We stood in amazement. Then I showed her the canning jar and lid.

“Do you want to catch a fairy?”

“How do you catch a fairy?”

“Very carefully. With your hand. We’ll put it in this jar. You can keep it all night.”

We caught a firefly, placed it in the jar.
“Can I keep it beside my bed?” Mary stared at the flashing firefly.

“Of course. It can be your night-light.”



In the morning, Mary brought me the jar. “I don’t see the fairy.”

“They disappear in the daytime, just like magic.”

“Magic fairies. Just like the stories.”

W/C 300