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The Bird's Song

 Once upon a time a bird flew to the top of a tree and began to teach herself a new song. It was one of love and kindness, an ode to the beauty of a world at peace.

            But the words stuck in her throat.

            Hour after hour she tried to sing her song, a gorgeous melody of joy and laughter that welled up in her mind’s eye, but no matter how hard she tried to offer the tune, it caught in a stunted way over and over, until she began to choke.

            Recognizing the futility of continuing in such a way, she rested awhile, and then slowly allowed a melody to take its own shape.

            At first it startled the bird to hear the sounds of mourning that emerged. Sorrow followed, delicately shaped by weighted sadness. As the notes began to blend, a dirge came forth that told of hardship and anguish, heartbreak and loss. So sorrowful were the tones, that as she sang, she herself began to mourn. And so striking was her lament, that the world mourned with her.

            It was the honesty of her song that taught the world to grieve, and in that grief was born peace.

The Frightening Path

The Old Man and the Stars

Once upon a time there was a man who lived by the sea. Every night, just before he lay down to rest, the sea would whisper into the heart of the man, telling him to look up.And every night the man would ignore the sea, thinking briefly as he slipped into sleep that he had too much work to do the next day.On a day when he had become an old man, he was hauling driftwood from the shore just as the sun set beyond the sea.He had hoped to get another task done before turning in for the night.But in the dark, he tripped and fell flat on his back. Stunned for a moment, he heard the sea whisper in his heart.He opened his eyes. That was when he saw the stars.The sea ceased to whisper then, for there was no more need.

Mary's Wonder

Mary sat wearily on the ground bathing herself in the afternoon sunlight.  It was a necessary kind of sitting, for her legs had simply gone out from under her, so heavy was the burden of having no one to talk to and no one to play with for such a long time.  Everything had begun to feel flat of late, and the nature of the day itself did nothing to suggest otherwise. It was a strange, abandoning kind of day, when the world felt Fae and fruitless and forlorn.           It was with a kind of curiosity, then, that Mary had an abruptly pleasant thought: the sun felt nice on her skin.  Without knowing why she did it, Mary raised her palm to the light as if she could catch it.  As she did so, suddenly her hand was filled with a glowing ball.  An instant later droves of fairies appeared out of nowhere, darting at her in every direction until they hovered in midair before her like a host of tiny angels.  'Hello,' she said, for it was the first thing that came to her mind as her eyes l…

The Woman at the Well

In the wishing well just outside the village there dwelt a fairy.  The fairy lived there because inside the well magic grew in great abundance.  Long ago the fairy had been pulled toward the warm glow of the ready magic, as did many a passerby who found themselves gazing into the subtle water to speak a wish.                But as years turned to centuries, the fairy grew tired of hearing the wants of all those who came to cast their hopes, for the wishes themselves were often for wealth, and pride of place, and privilege.  Hopeful they would come, perhaps weary, and they would speak the words of longing in their heart, only to walk away, the fairy thought, slightly hardened.  As the fairy looked after the wishers, it would grow sad, for the aura cast about them seemed to mark their end.
              Then came a day when a young woman knelt upon the stone stoop of the well, placing her elbows on the lip as her head fell into her hands.  It was when the first tears hit the water that…