There are stories that parents tell their impressionable children that remain with them for their whole lives. I’m not sure why I’m feeling nostalgic, but I’ve been remembering two such stories, one from my mother and one from my father.
Do the children of today believe in fairies? Do they know they should be caught in flight and the wish will only come true if the “fairy” – the seed – is still at the heart of the thistledown?
Last week, I found a veritable fairy factory along by the river, although most of them hadn’t yet left the plant – pun very much intended – so they weren’t quite ready to grant any wishes:Now I’m off to find a copy of Peter Pan to re-read. And although I’m afraid I gave away my copy of Charlotte’s Web years ago, maybe I can track down the ballooning spiderlings scene online.