A Fairy Tale
By Melissa

A Fairy Tale

When I was a little girl, I had a fort out in my backyard, in the middle of a blackberry bush. It was the coolest fort…we had pots and pans, and even a mattress and some blankets if we got tired. But the best thing about the fort is that it had a Fairies nest in it. Now you may ask, “What’s so wonderful about a fairies nest?” Well, obviously you’re not a kid anymore if you have to ask this question. But if you had met my fairies, you would understand. They were the kindest, most loving fairies a young girl could ask for. When I scratched myself in the brambles, they used their magic to patch me up. When I was sad because my latest goldfish had died in a horrible goldfish accident, they dried my tears with fairy kisses. They used the pots and pans to make wonderful fairy food, and shared it with anyone who was hungry. And the best thing about fairy food is that it’s not gone until everyone is completely full.

Well, time went on, and I moved away. My fairy friends would come and visit me at my new house, and it was always good to see them. But I found that I had less and less time to spend with them as the years went by. I was too busy with friends and homework, and I slowly forgot about the years I spent in my fort with my fairies, and I forgot all the wonderful times we spent together. I forgot about the strength I got from fairy food, and the peace gained from fairy kisses. I grew older and more cynical, and after a while, I completely forgot about the fairies, as most grown people do. Then one day, I was asked to write a poem about the one place that I always find hope in. And this is what I wrote:

The Hiding Place

Where the sun and the moon eclipse,
Where the snow and sand converge,
Where fire and ice unite,
There is my hiding place.

This is the place where miracles transpire,
A planet of enchantment.
This is the land of impossible dreams,
Anything can happen.

Lightning strikes from a sunny sky,
Indigo grass tickles my toes,
As I sit and watch an aqua caterpillar
Crawl deliberately along a golden twig.

I may only linger a little longer
Until my soul is at peace.
Then I must return to the real world,
And face all my shattered dreams.

Suddenly, it was all I could do not to remember my fairy land. I remembered the things I saw when I was with the fairies, the feelings I felt. And I was transported back to a time when things were a little more innocent, a little more peaceful.

Many, many years have gone by since I visited the fairies. I’m all grown up, and I have a schedule to keep and people to see. But whenever things get to chaotic, I remember my hiding place, and all the chaos goes away for a few blissful moments. And it is then that I am at peace.

The End

The Moral of This Story Is: You’re never too old to believe in fairies.

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