Within Dreams Of Magical Worlds!
A few miles distance from the rocky shore;
But oh! out there beyond - beyond the eyes' horizon
There's more - there's more!
When I was quite, quite small, I had my own little glass fairy which none of the grown-ups could see. She was clear and colourless and quite invisible. A little glass butterfly sat in her hair, and a red glass heart beat quietly in her chest. Plink, plink, plink tinkled that little heart. The fairy lived in our garden inside a little glass tulip.
As I sat watching over the glass tulip, a soft sobbing came to my ears. "Why are you crying, little glass fairy?" I asked. "O-o-oh," she moaned from her little glass parlour, "I am not beautiful any more!" - "Why ever not?" I asked. "Because the glass butterfly from my hair has flown away," she whimpered. "Then I shall catch you another - a real live one," I promised, but she would not hear of it. She felt as if she would die of a broken heart, she told me. This upset me. I looked around the garden unhappily. Suddenly something glinted like a rainbow across the other side. What else but a glass butterfly! There it was, playing with its live companions, as if nothing were the matter at all; now bobbing up and down on a rose, now licking away from the cup of an acacia flower, flitting here and there and everywhere - just like any butterfly! "Come back at once, you rascal!" I called to it. "Don't you know the little glass fairy is crying for you?" - "Indeed!" the butterfly replied. "But I am not tame any more, and I want to play here with the others!" The little glass fairy peeped out of the tulip. "Does it mean nothing to you that I am not beautiful any more?" she asked. "Nothing at all," replied the butterfly, and dived straight into a peony. The glass fairy burst into tears again. Can you hear her tears falling? Ting, ting, ting!
Then a golden spider called out, "Don't cry, glass fairy, I'll catch your butterfly for you!" And he set to work busily. He spun, and spun, until he had spun a huge web over the rose-bush. It was clear and invisible as the glass fairy herself. The bush called out to the butterfly: "Come here, you rascal; I shall give you the sweetest of honey to drink." The butterfly did not wait to be asked twice, and flew straight into the bush's branches. Before he knew it, he was fluttering hopelessly in the spider's web. The glass fairy thanked the rose-bush and the spider kindly, tied the little glass butterfly back in her glass hair, and said: "You just wait, you little scamp, I'll soon have you tamed again!" But the butterfly replied, "I was getting homesick anyway, and I am glad that you are beautiful again."
I ran to fetch my mother, so that she might look at my little glass fairy, but she just let down her own honey-coloured hair in the sunshine, smiled, and said, a little sadly: "I cant see your little glass fairy, I'm too big." And she gave me two sweet-smelling rhubarb tarts. "One for you and one for your fairy," she said, stroking me on the head. I took the fairy her tart. "Mmmm, that's good," she said, licking her lips with her little glass tongue until they tinkled. "It is strange, but big people often can't see the purest things in the world. Just remember that. But you, too, will stop seeing me some day, though I shall always be here with you." I did not believe her, and we spent many happy times together.
Then one day I came into the garden, and the little fairy and the glass tulip had disappeared as though the ground had swallowed them up. But you know, sometimes I can hear the beating of her little glass heart, somewhere near to me. Plink, plink, plink.
That be one of my favorite stories. 'Tis my hope you enjoyed it as well !
If you did not know, I be one who likes to share a good story or poem. So before you take a portal to visit the realms of the enchanting folk, mayhaps you would like to sit and hear a tale!
(touch the picture and read all about it!)
They love presents!
Woods of Sweden
Visit Santa and the elves at the North Pole Village. Wunorse shall take you there!
Do you?