One of Us

Once there was a wee little faerie. She was just a babe, as faeries go. She was only 176 years old.

As a wee one, the elder faeries thought she was too young to do anything and she was too young to know anything, but that simply was not true. In fact, after 176 summers and winters and springs and autumns, she actually knew quite a lot.

The wee little one knew how the leaves felt when they turned their blazing fall colors - magical, that’s how. She knew how the snowflakes felt as they drifted through the sky - magical, that’s how. She knew how a flower bud felt the moment it burst into bloom - magical, that’s how. She knew how rays of sunshine felt as they ripened blackberries - magical, that’s how.

While the older faeries teased her, the wee little one was too busy following the magic and paid them no mind.

She spent her mornings cheering on butterflies as they emerged from their cocoons and afternoons telling tadpoles of the adventures they’d have as frogs. She passed her evenings delighting in the moment the canyon’s wind switched direction. And sometimes, very late at night, when the world was asleep and the crescent moon hung in the sky, the wee little one would open herself up and feel the energy of the stars.

On one such night, when the milky way streaked the cosmos, Mother Nature found the wee little one perched in the tippety-top of the tallest tree.

“Wee One, I have a job for you,” Mother Nature whispered on the breeze.

“You do?” she whispered back. “But I am still so young, and I am still so small. I couldn’t possibly be the one you want.”

The breeze carried Her response: “You are exactly the one I want. It is because you know how to follow the magic, and that is what life is all about.”

“Isn’t there an older faerie more suited for the task than I?” the wee little one asked.

“When faeries grow up, often their minds get filled with other things and they cannot follow the magic as easily,” Mother Nature replied. “But not you. You haven’t forgotten.”

“No, I haven’t,” the wee little one cried. “Following the magic is my favorite way to spend the day!”

“Perfect! Then my job for you is this: spend the rest of your life following the magic,” said Mother Nature.

“I can do that!”

“Excellent, because all it takes is one of us to remind the rest of us. Be the one.”

The wee little one was too busy following the magic to reply. She was already off, following a ladybug’s first flight as night gave way to dawn.