The Flower Fairy

Once upon a time there was a little flower fairy.

She could be any size, really, for that is part of fairy magic, but mostly she was small.

She loved to linger on the lilacs and visit with butterflies.

She looked into the bells of columbines to see if there were busy bees.

She checked each tulip and buttercup to make sure their colors were bright and true.

And she loved to play chase with the oak elf who lived in the tree at the west edge of the yard.

And so she passed the summer, overseeing each flower and loving them all in turn.

But one day she noticed that there were fewer flowers.  The nights were getting cold.  And the trees seemed to be changing.

Of course, she went to the oak elf.  He was far older than she, and he knew many things.

“The sleeping time has come,” he told her, “Your flowers and my leaves will all fade away.”

She noticed that even he had changed.  His shirt was now darkest red.  Had the lining of his cloak always been brown?

“It is time for you and me to go to sleep, dear fairy,” he told her once again.

“And when we wake up,” he said, with his voice as quiet as rustling leaves . .

. . . it will be a brand new Spring!