The Snowdrop Fairy
When I was a child my parents had no time for the magic in life.
They were, to give them their due, too busy, having such a large family to care for.
As I sit here in the sunshine memories come crowding back into my mind.
A kaleidoscope of pictures, feelings, all fight for space now in my head.
On a particular winters morning my Grandma came round to collect me. Granddad was waiting in the car with the engine running to help keep the chill off. I remember how excited I felt as I impatiently pulled on my coat. Don’t forget your hat and scarf, Mother thrusting them into my hands as she shut the door.
Grandma stooped and gave me a kiss.
“Let’s put these things in my bag,” she said. “You won’t need them in the car”.
It seemed that we drove for miles and miles. The trees were bare and silhouetted against the pale wintry sky. Hedges and gates flashed past. I caught glimpses of windows of houses with warmly lit living rooms so inviting. Families gathered together laughing and talking, bathed in the glow of happiness and contentment.
Nanny and Granddad were cosily chatting in the front of the car. I felt myself getting sleepier and sleepier.
Then, at last!! We were there.
But where exactly?
I hadn’t been told anything except that where we were going was a magic place!
Suddenly we pulled into a driveway leading up to a big house.
“Come on slowcoach,” said Granddad lets go in.
Grandma took me by the hand and let me through the gateway.
We all stopped and even now I can remember holding my breath at the wonderful sight laid out before us.
The whole area was covered in a white blanket of snow!!
For a few seconds we gazed at this sight. Then as we walked forward I saw that the ground was carpeted with tiny while flowers.
They spread over the ground, under the trees and way off into the distance.
Granddad explained that they were snowdrops. Each little flower pale and delicate drooping its little head in the sunshine.
As we walked through this magnificent place Grandma and I discussed as to where the fairies were.
A week or so ago I had stayed the night at my grandparents’ house and before I went to bed we had our usual story reading from my favourite book about fairies.
In it there had been a picture of a snowdrop fairy, standing under the bloom with a little white flower cap on her head.
Of course Grandma had always told me that fairies lived in the woods and fields and that each flower had it own fairy that looked after it.
She painted the flower each morning with the colours that we saw and each night the tiny magic being curled up in the flower and slept.
As we walked round this wonderland I ran from flower to flower lifting up each little nodding in the hope of catching a glimpse of the tiny creature.
I thought I saw one or two, just a fleeting sight, or maybe that was my imagination. Grandma took me by the hand and all three of us spent a magical afternoon just wandering around looking for the fairies.
Now as I sit and remember this very special afternoon I look out in my own garden and sure enough there under the trees and in the grass shine tiny specks of white looking for all the world like snow. These are my own snowdrops. Again I cannot resist lifting up the delicate heads just to see if I can catch sight of one of those fairies!!
After all what would the world be without magic?
For Krysten/By Nanny Rosie