The Fairy Tail
Everywhere you look there are fairies, but not everyone can see them. I can! I’ve always known they were there and I remember the first time I met one.
It was many years ago, when I was six or seven. I had moved to live with my grandmother, who lived in a little wooden house next to the woods. My whole life seemed to change that day, especially the way I began to see the world and my father.
My new garden rolled into endless fields, woods and beaches. Apart from the old farm at the bottom of the lane, there were no other houses near us.
It all began when I was wondering around the garden minding my own business. I had been crying, though I can’t tell you why because I don’t remember. It was probably because I was very sad. Anyway, my eyes were blurred from tears. I walked through an enormous greenhouse, with hundreds of bunches of grapes hanging from the roof. I stood on a chair to reach one and as soon as I did, I fell off. Then just as I raised my head up off the ground, I saw them.
Although my knees hurt, I kept perfectly still and watched in amazement as hundreds of tiny, white fluffy balls with tails fly past the greenhouse towards the woods. I jumped up (forgetting about my sore knees) and followed them. The sadness had vanished and so had the tears.
I ran down the lane, passed the old farmhouse and into the woods trying hard to keep up with them. They just had to be fairies, I thought, just like the ones in the story my mother once read to me. Then they vanished. I searched and searched but couldn’t find them.
‘Where are you?’ I called softly. But there was no reply, so I turned to go back home.
That was when I saw my first, real, close up fairy. She had landed on a fern. Ever so slowly, I crept towards her, hardly daring to breathe.
‘Don’t be afraid,’ I whispered, standing over her. She moved slightly. It was a fairy for certain. Oh, she wasn’t like I had imagined, but a fairy nevertheless. She was pure white and perfectly round and I stared, with saucer eyes, as she tiptoed over a leaf, dragging her tail behind her.
Just as she turned to look at me, I heard my father’s voice. Oh why did he have to follow me?
‘Thank heavens I found you!’ he picked me up and over his shoulder I could still see the little fairy.
‘I’m so sorry daddy, but I was chasing fairies.’
My father put me down and looked to where I was pointing. She’s there on the leaf.
‘I can see her,’ said my father. ‘She is indeed a fairy from the dent de lion flowers.’
I looked at my father as if I had never seen him before. 'You believe in fairies too?' My father nodded.
‘So she does have a home!’ I said.
‘Not anymore,’ said my father. ‘You see, she has left her home, the dent de lion, which is French for the lions tooth, a dandelion to most people, and now she’s looking for a new one.’
‘But where will she go?’ I was so afraid for the fairy.
‘Oh, somewhere where she will be free and happy,' my father replied.
I turned to see my very first fairy, flying to her new home.’ Just like me I thought. If someone so small could live happily in her new home, then so could I.