Archive for March, 2013

They were sitting quietly in the Tree and she turned her head to look at the white haired boy with his wide smile and the girl in the red dress with her sparkling eyes, and with a smile on her face she blurted out, “I’m going on an adventure.” They returned the smile because they loved adventures. “Where are we going?” asked the girl in the red dress excitedly. Her smile stopped and she bowed her head. “We aren’t, it will just be me and the lamplighter.” They hid their disappointment, then put on brave faces, because they knew this was so special to their friend. They really liked the lamplighter and knew that he would look after her. “So where is the adventure to?” enquired the white haired boy trying not to show his disappointment. She thought for a moment then replied. “It’s an island, and it is far away.” The white haired boy knew about the Island of Lost Children where the lamplighter lived, but that was not far, so it must be somewhere different. “What do they call this place and is it magic?” he asked. She smiled because she knew it was so totally magic, then thinking hard she tried to remember its name, but she just couldn’t.


“So tell me about this place, and what sorts of things are you going to see?” She asked as she crossed her legs and tucked her red shoes beneath her? She tucked a strand of loose hair into her pink bow and was just so excited that the words could not come out fast enough. “Well they have sharks and turtles and flying foxes and all sorts of fishes and just so much it is amazing.” They smiled because they loved those things too and they had wished they could have gone as well. “You know it’s not gonna be the same in the Tree without you so just make sure you send us stories as you can.” She nodded and smiled.


The time came for her to leave and holding her new pink suitcase and dressed in her new pink overalls, she hugged the white haired boy and his friend in her shiny red shoes, and then they hugged the lamplighter and wished them a safe journey.

When they arrived at the island it was more beautiful than she had imagined. The lamplighter smiled at all the fish and dreamed of being on his boat and doing his research, which brought a bit of a frown to her face. They were not there long and they were already swimming beneath the crystal clear water’s surface. It glistened in the sunlight and they could almost see forever. They were lead to a special secret forest of corals that were as big as trees, with seahorses holding gently to the outstretched branches. There were weeds like the swaying leaves on the Tree in which she so often sat. Very carefully they swam though the forest until they came upon the special place where the Faerie Shark was found. It was only small, about the size of two hands, and they sensed when there was magic around. They took one look at the girl in her pink wetsuit and they all swam around her, giving her a gentle brush as they passed by. She gave the biggest wow ever and the lamplighter took some video of her to share with her friends when they returned.


Sitting in the Tree, the white haired boy could see the visions that she was seeing and as he told his friend sitting next to him what he was seeing they both longed to be there. They knew that one day the four of them would share this together. For several days they dived all around the island and saw so many wonders. On the last day, they went into a magic forest where they climbed a huge tree. This was bigger than the friendship tree, but was nowhere near as nice. Up high they stood on a platform and before them was the biggest ever flying fox. She jumped up and down with excitement, bouncing in her new pink runners, with flashing lights on the toes that sparkled like her friends eyes as she moved. She was so overcome with excitement that she had not noticed how high up she was. When the realisation came upon her, she clung to the lamplighter with all her might. He reassured her, but there was still a touch of fear within, but then she remembered the words her friends had told her before she left. They had promised that whenever she was scared, she was to just think and wish and they would be there nearby.


The lamplighter went first, and as he flew through the air he yelled, Yooooooooo Hooooooooo. Which made her giggle. Her turn came and she was apprehensive at first, then as she looked around, she saw the form of the white haired boy and the girl in her red dress standing behind and together their voices ever so softly said. “Do not fear dear friend for we are here. You will not fall, We will never let you fall, We promise. Close your eyes and believe my friend, because your fears will fade and you will grow strong. Be a child, be so free, we are always near, and will always be, friends indeed, friends in need, friends for life, yes we are three. She held on tight to the rope and as she pushed off she heard a call in her mind, Whooooooo Hoooooooo, Weeeeeeeeeee, and with that she smiled and as she flew she gave a cry. Yeeeeeeee Haaaaaaaaw. She was truly free and she knew for certain she had friends for life who would always care.


It was sunny day and the soft winter light bathed the Friendship tree in a glow that was much warmer than usual. The white haired boy sat alongside his friend in her new red dress and told stories of make believe. It had been ten days since the girl in the pink overalls had gone on her adventure, and they were both missing her and wondered if she would come back or had even missed them. Yeeeeee Haaaaw came the cry as her hair waved in the breeze. The smile on her face was priceless and the two friends climbed to the bottom of the tree as quickly as possible to greet her. They sat together and she told them of all the amazing adventures she had had. She told them about the flying fox and her smile to the white haired boy let him know that she had seen them that day. They hugged and together they all dreamed of the next adventure that they would all go on together.


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The girl with pink bows in her hair wrapped her small hands around the lowest branch of the tall Tree. ‘How long since I have climbed up here?’ she briefly pondered upside down, before refocusing the world again the right way round. The answer felt like many months – possibly even longer. For the longest time, the longest part of her day had been spent locked high inside the tall Ivory Tower, trapped beneath the dark mahogany desk, drawing, cutting and colouring crude paper butterflies, suspending them from glittery lengths of string. But always, in her heart of hearts, she had longed to feel her legs dangling from the lofty heights of her favourite sturdy, tree branch far from the Tower, perched high like a bird, resting from a long day’s flight. 

Each time she found a rare moment to peak through the Tower’s small, dim window, she always imagined she could see the faint, silhouette of the sacred Tree on the other side of the dark valley, far off in the distance. Once or twice, she thought she saw a brief burst of blue and a sparkly flash of red moving slowly down the long, winding path towards the Tree’s wide trunk. At those moments, she would sigh deeply and murmur, ‘My friends are looking for me. But I am not there.’ And she wondered if they ever missed her as much as she truly missed them.

She replayed their happiest memories in her mind, over and over like the little glass carousel she kept on the desk in the Ivory Tower, its tiny silver butterflies spinning in endless circles over the gentle heat of a bright candle’s flame. One memory sparkled bright as a sapphire – the day the white-haired boy in the long blue coat, and just a little older than herself, had appeared as if by some strange magic in the Tree. ‘Who are you?’ the girl enquired, brushing a stray brown strand of fringe from her eyes and raising herself fearlessly to sit on a branch not far from his. She had never seen another Child in this Tree before.

‘It’s me,’ he replied, and she accepted his strange response, though she could not quite tell whether he was shy or confident, wary or watchful. Perhaps he had also climbed this Tree every day of his life in those mysterious times of day before she arrived to make her climb, or after she had climbed down. Perhaps he felt that she was the intruder, that somehow this Tree was his alone. He had seemed somewhat surprised and confused to discover that anyone else had felt entitled to equal claim.

Day after day when she had climbed, she found the boy sitting quietly on the branch he had seemed to claim as his own. At first, he was very reserved, keeping all his thoughts locked deep inside his mind. Then slowly, she had spied the bright gleam hidden in his eye, revealing a heart and mind so much like her own. ‘I fold pleats into shiny paper butterflies and hang them from my branch with glittery string,’ she confided. ‘See?’ And when he did not mock her, she told him, ‘And sometimes I paint pictures of all the creatures of the sea.’ She smiled to see his eyes brighten a little. ‘You could paint with me, if you like?’ 

And when the two children started to paint together high in the Tree overlooking the sea, the colours had burst off their canvas into swirling, vibrant life. All the golds and blues and greens flowed like water from their brushes, then over the sandy shore, becoming part of the ocean itself. And sometimes the two friends’ thoughts became words like glistening pink and blue soap bubbles, blown into life with great precision and care, then rising, sparkling in the sunlight like magical balloons that could never burst, ascending past the clouds to join the stars – how brightly they shone! 

Sometimes they seemed to need no words at all, gliding through the crystal water, able to communicate as if by pure thought alone. The little girl smiled to herself. ‘Pure’ was the only way to describe the bond that had grown between them, almost like sister and brother, but certainly as the best kind of friends. She wondered whether every person might some day find this sort of friend to share a bond so pure and free, like balloons that floated into the sky without ever being held by a string. Her smile danced on a breeze when she thought of all the words that had passed between them – the most child-like words two people could ever exchange.

Then she sank a little at the thought of how few balloons she had been able to send into the sky since she had allowed herself to be locked inside the Tower. Yes, she had allowed herself to be locked away. For as long as she could remember, she had walked down the long windy path through the sun-dappled forest to climb the Tree alone, and from its highest branches, she had always seen the beautiful Ivory Tower far in the distance, glistening in the sparkling sunlight. How she had longed to see inside of it, to be considered worthy to even climb half-way up the tall, spiral stairs, to enter the secret spaces so few would ever see for themselves! 

Yes – she knew she was just a small girl, one who would probably always climb the tree by herself each day to daydream, hanging folded paper butterflies with glittery string from her solitary branch and pretending they were real. But somewhere hidden inside her favourite daydreams, she believed deeply that she might truly be a Princess, destined to take her inevitable place inside the dazzling Ivory Tower. 

And now, just as she had discovered the mysterious white-haired boy with whom to share all the wonders and mysteries of the Tree, a magical door had opened before her – without her even knocking! – and almost without warning she had been whisked from the Tree and transported into the the unseen depths of the Tower. Its bone-white door closed heavily behind her with hollow, resounding finality, declaring ‘You are no longer a Child; you are indeed a Princess. Here you now belong.’ It had happened so suddenly and unexpectedly; there had been no time to explain.

‘I’ve gone,’ she scribbled onto a hasty paper butterfly, sending it through the Tower’s small window. But she knew in her heart that its pleated paper wings would never find a way to fly to the Tree, to the boy who sat waiting for her to come and play with water and words and paper and light once more. She peeked through the window. Far, far away, she thought she saw a small figure in a blue coat, climb down from the Tree, turn his back against it, and dejectedly walk away. 

‘No!’ she felt the desperate scream rising in her throat. ‘You mustn’t turn your back! One of us must stay, or else the Tree shall die!’ And somehow his pained, strained thoughts found a way to reach her, ‘It’s dying already. The magic that kept the Tree alive has already started to dissolve.  Once there was sun; now there are clouds. The words that once flowed like water, nourishing the Tree from deepest roots to greenest leaves, are now locked in a dark tower far, far away.’  

And it was true – though the Ivory Tower dazzled from a distance, inside it was almost always dark and cold. And feeling herself utterly trapped, the girl in pink overalls who was now a Princess slowly remembered how she had wished herself into the Tower. Steadily, she began to wonder whether there was any way by which she might be able to now wish herself away from it, even if just for a few moments, once more.

And with that single wondering, wishful thought, she found herself far from the cold Tower, running with increasing speed along the cool, familiar forest path towards the Friendship Tree. No longer an imprisoned Princess, a small girl in overalls, with pink bows in her hair, squealed with delight and wrapped her hands around the lowest branch of the tree, pulling the whole weight of her small body upwards. 

And rather than feeling overcome with bliss and glee, the Child felt the tiny heart within her begin to break as, looking up, she beheld how withered and lifeless the Tree had become. ‘How long since I have climbed up here?’ she wondered, shielding her eyes from the harsh sunlight that scorched through the Tree’s bare branches, burning her arms and face. 

‘And where is the white-haired boy in the long blue coat?’ She had hoped against all hope that somehow he might have found a way to return to his branch while she had been locked in the Tower – that somehow, he had found enough magic on his own to keep the Tree alive. In vain, she scanned all the bare branches above her, and like an uncertain prayer, she reached out her thoughts, hoping he might be close enough to hear them and reply.

‘It’s me,’ he answered with his thoughts, though they were not as troubled or distant as his friend had feared. ‘What can you see?’ Listening intently, she thought she could hear tiny beams of light in his voice. And looking far into the distant direction of the Ivory Tower, joy rose within her as the sunlight danced towards her upon the distant breeze. She could see him now, her long-lost friend, steadily releasing one delicate paper butterfly after another from the deep pocket of his long blue coat. One by one, the butterflies the boy released began to glisten, shine and sparkle, before alighting upon a glittery string tied head-height around the base of the distant Tower. Reds, greens, golds, pinks, blues – each butterfly seemed animated to brilliant life by endless bright beams of radiant sun. 

And though there were many, many miles between the Tower and the Tree, with each step the boy took, another butterfly escaped from the deep pocket of his cloak, then suspended itself like a sparkling jewel from the mobile he was hanging. As each one shimmered magically into view, reflecting in its fragile wings the full radiance of the sun, the girl in pink felt the heart within her animate to life as yet another small, supple leaf appeared magically on the branches around her. She could feel the bare branch over which her legs dangled fill with water and life and light, and soon the entire tree was more alive and vibrant than it had ever been before. Surely, it had become stronger and taller than the imposing Ivory Tower on the far side of the valley. ‘I wished myself into that Tower,’ she thought across the distance to her friend, ‘But I never knew I could wish myself back to the Tree.’

‘You couldn’t,’ the distant boy replied, releasing more, more, more bright butterflies, each time taking yet another slow, steady step towards where his friend awaited him in the Tree. Now it was so full of life and green that he could hear his friend’s thoughts, but could no longer see the branch on which she sat. ‘It only took one of us to wish you to the Tower, but it took both of us to wish you back to the Tree. I’ve been wondering how long it would take you to make that wish, and I’ve been folding all these paper butterflies while I waited. I can promise you that this is no ordinary Butterfly Mobile. It is truly magical. Each butterfly is the most powerful wish that will help you return from Tower to Tree and back again.’

‘But how many are there?’ the girl in pink now called down from where she sat hidden in the Tree, for with each butterfly the boy released from his pocket to take its delicate place upon the mobile, his steps seemed to turn into magical flight in the direction of the Tree. ‘At least a thousand,’ she heard him reply, and at that point she realised with certainty that wishes were wings that could transport anybody anywhere, as long as the wish was shared. She peered down from her strong branch, now heavy and vibrant with supple, green leaves, and watched as the boy in the long blue coat gently guided the final butterfly out of his pocket, wrapping the last length of the mobile around the Tree’s thick trunk. 

‘There is no longer a valley dividing the Tower and Tree. The two are now connected by an unbreakable string full of wishes that will transport you from one to the other with a simple, sparkly butterfly’s flutter. All you need to do is wish – and believe.’ And with that, he was sitting on the branch beside her as though there had never been a valley between them. And although the Ivory Tower still dazzled in the distance, now it was no longer a blissful daydream. Nor was it a dreaded nightmare. Finally, it was simply a tower. And tied to it were a thousand glittering butterflies that would take her straight back in a moment’s wish to the place she most longed to be, as a little girl with pink bows in her hair, sitting on a branch near her most magical friend in all the world, high up in The Friendship Tree.


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A true friendship is like the seasons, like the sun and the stars.

No matter what appears to be, it is always there where you are.

Like words upon a paper boat, that drifts on out to sea.

There for those that find it, to read of what can be.

Simple thoughts on oceans cross, to reach out far and wide.

Drifting here and drifting there, carried by the currents and the tide.

Far away the shining stars, you will look upon one day.

To remind you of the one you are, the child that once did play.

And when you think the thoughts you do, I know that you will see.

The child inside you still exists, the child you’ll always be.

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“Shhhh, you may wake her,” she whispered. As they looked on their little friend was curled into ball like a baby, fast asleep, breathing ever so softly. They stood there for ages and they admired her wondering how she had not fallen out of the tree. “I bet she has been working so hard this week, she just needs the rest,” suggested the girl in the red dress. They were being ever so quiet so as not to make a noise, although they so wanted to play, but at the same time they felt that she needed the sleep right now. As she lay quietly with her pink overalls and a tiny smile on her face, they remembered what she had told them not long ago and how she had so much to do that she hardly had the time to think about being a child, let alone write like one.

“What shall we do?” He enquired, sounding more concerned than ever before. His friend looked around to where the little girl had hung her shiniest butterflies, now spinning ever so gently in the sunlight, with the reflections bouncing upon their faces as if the cheekiest faeries were flying before them. “I know, we will find our best ever words and we will put them here so when she wakes she will find them and hopefully we can put a little smile on her face.” A sad and worried look fell across the white haired boy’s face.  “I don’t think I can anymore.” She brushed away the hair that had fallen over her red cheeks. “What do you mean, you always find words?” He thought then he spoke, “but.” She stopped him, touching her small finger gently on his lips. “You are the one who has told us that there are not buts, I believe in you, I know you will find them.”

She softly ran her hand down his cheek and placing it on his chin, she raised his head to look into his large blue eyes. “You know you are magic, and I believe that the magic exists within your gentle soul, hidden deep to protect it, waiting to share with those you truly care about?” He began to smile, because as he looked into her blue green eyes he felt her encouragement lift him as it had done so often before. “Here let me start for you, we will do this together,” she said joyfully.


Our little pink friend,

Sleeps high in the tree,

I wonder if she’s dreaming,

Of her friends you and me.


We stand and we stare,

At the smile on her face,

And we know that she’s happy,

When she’s here in this place.


We know we could wake her,

And go have some fun,

But instead we will leave her,

To sleep in the sun.


We’ll hang from the branches,

The dearest of words,

Written together,

By her best friends in the world.


Then when she awakens,

A smile they will bring,

And our little pink friend,

Her heart it will sing.


“See, I told you that you could do it,” she exclaimed excitedly. He smiled because he knew that he could not take all the credit, but she was right, there was still magic there. She reached out, but could not tie the string to the branch above. He took her hand and then the glittery red and blue string that she was holding, and he tied the ladybug / dragonfly amongst the butterflies where it shone so brightly that it almost brought them to life. Their friend began to stir and so they ever so quietly climbed down and sat nearby, where they could see her reaction.

As she woke, she sat up and stretched out her tiny arms, giving the littlest of yawns. Just then a flash of light caught her eye. It dazzled like nothing else in the tree and looking around, she had a quizzical expression upon her face. As she stood and reached out for the new shiny object, she was excited, and could hardly control herself, after all it was like Christmas, or she thought, most any time of the year knowing how often her friends had surprised her with the tiniest of gifts. As she read the words, a smile grew upon her face and she looked hurriedly around for the slightest sign that they may be nearby. She caught a glimpse of a flash of red, then waved, more in hope than knowing, and when her friends stood up in the tall grass, she nearly fell down trying to get to them.

She ran to them and hugged them both. “I missed you so much,” she cried. “It has been such a long week and it had ended badly for me, and I was so exhausted, but your words have made me whole once more, and all in one sweet moment.” They were more than happy to listen to her story, because sharing and caring was what they thought made the friendship so special. When she finished they begged her to come play with them in the ocean. It did not take her long to think, and before they knew it, they were deep beneath the waves looking at all the wonders that they had dreamt about for so long.


There is no moral to this story, but this I shall say. True friends will never leave another to linger and they will always be there to lift them from the deepest depths, to the highest of mountains where their dreams can soar with the eagles.

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Smiles that grow so wide,

Eyes that sparkle bright,

Three friends on an ocean bench,

Stare into the night.


Each one full of words,

Written on a page,

Waiting for the time to come,

When they will play again.


Words I write for them,

Words they write for me,

These are like the air I breathe,

All that I will be.


When I’m feeling down,

When I’m feeling blue,

I look beyond the faces,

Look for words so true.


Words that speak of joy,

Of times that we have shared,

Words that tell of all there is,

That tell how much they care.


Lifting high above,

For all the world to see,

Side by side we’re standing tall,

Beside the Friendship Tree.


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Angelica sat on a grassy bank overlooking the inlet. Only moments before, her dearest friends in all the world had disappeared far below the water’s glassy surface to explore all the wonders and mysteries swirling and swarming in the sparkling expanse of blue water. Normally, she would be right there with them, gliding through the cool water, sharing the delight of all the treasures they discovered together. Today was different. She had found the time to come to the shore but could find no time to venture further. So here she sat at the water’s edge, her mind forced to focus today on work rather than on play.

But the sweet memories of the preceding days warmed her heart like sparkling rays of sun falling onto her pale skin, and she replayed them over and over in her mind as though they rode a magical carousel. Though she had stayed on the shore to work, there was an irresistible dreaminess as the fondly remembered moments seemed to rise and fall endlessly to the twinkly sounds of beach-side carnival music, each delicately remembered moment perching itself atop a swirling circle of brightly painted seahorses, dolphins and fanciful fish, all gleaming as they spun in the sun.

How blissful the preceding days had been! So full of sunshine and laughter. There had indeed been many adventures together in the ocean, exploring under dark rock ledges to find mysterious sea monsters, some as long as eight or ten feet long, resting quietly on the sandy bottom. Other delights came in the form of tiny decorative sea slugs, crawling quickly over rocks or resting quietly upon them – minute, multi-coloured jewels in every hue under the sun for which there was no equivalent on land. How comfortable the friends all seemed spending their days soaring like strange sorts of birds in this underwater world.

Angelica loved the quiet confidence of the white-haired boy as he navigated the course, always sharing the treasures he found with her and the beautiful girl in the bright red wetsuit whose eyes sparkled like rubies behind her red diving mask. How surprised Angelica always was by the girl’s growing fearlessness – how she would descend so courageously into the deepest, darkest waters to explore the shipwrecks resting like abandoned monuments at the bottom of the ocean! How bold she had become, squeezing her way under a cave-like ledge to come face to face with some enormous, unknown creature, at the same time too beautiful for words but too fearsome for most people to desire such a close encounter. Angelica’s face beamed with pride at the thought of her friend, even now, gliding deep now beneath the water’s surface, gathering more exquisitely coloured and textured shells to add like medals to her collection as indisputable evidence of how utterly fearless she had become.

Gazing out over the water, in her mind’s eye Angelica also replayed the adventures the three friends had shared out of the water. Only yesterday, they had played games like only the happiest children can play, pretending to be pirates, dodging the flying cannonballs and raising their skull-and-crossbones flag high into the breeze that blew over their heads. Then in the next minute, they were space cowboys, chasing each other with guns that shot lazer beams, squealing with delight as they ran through a dark maze full of corners, twists, turns and mirrors. Even when she tripped and fell to the ground during one of their games, Angelica was so overcome by such child-like glee that she had stayed on the ground, laughing uncontrollably like the eight year old she truly was inside. How blissful, how divine, how simply delightful to be so completely and utterly alive and free!

Even now, breathing the sweet, fresh air into her lungs at the water’s edge, Angelica knew that although she most certainly had Grown Up matters of significance to attend to, that the intense joys she had shared with her two most beloved friends over the past few days would sustain the Child within her for the days and weeks to come. And before too much more time had passed, she found that she had managed to progress through the work which had ungraciously demanded so much of her attention and had kept her from sharing today’s sweet new adventure.

But now here were her friends, the white-haired boy and the sweet red girl, emerging from the water towards her like two strange sea creatures, sparking in the dazzling sunlight. Their smiles embraced her warmly in their joy, and she knew that she had not missed the adventure entirely, for they would relive it for her in exquisite detail, each of them presenting to her one small, precious treasure from the deep – perhaps a shell or a word story or even a pair of warm, wet smiles in exchange for her own. She had waited for them by the water’s edge, and now they had returned.

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As the day gradually transformed into night, with the soft orange glow upon the horizon, the white haired man sat and gazed at the clouds as they hung onto the last remnants of the light and life that the day had brought. He knew within his heart and his mind that his two dearest friends wondered what it was that he was experiencing, yet he was unable to explain. Like the magic of the words that had seemed to disappear, he had no words to themselves explain what he felt. The friendship was strong and he had no doubt it would last an eternity. It had already stood many tests and those alone gave him the inner strength he needed to continue, yet there was something much deeper.

A part of him that had been nurtured not all that long ago had deserted him, contained within the innocence and the magic of the simplest of words that were written without great thought, that would normally unfold before him, spilling upon the page for all to see. Now as the darkness enveloped where he sat and the stars, his most wonderful companions, began appear with their tiny eyes shining bright, he felt at first alone, yet looking deep into the sky he felt as if he was one of them. They seemed to smile for him and only the deep roar of the waves upon the rocks below silenced their calling. He pricked his ears, longing to hear a different tune, one of the whales and the dolphins that would once again inspire him to write with the same youthful abandon that he had found before. Then the childish laughter that he had come to know. Alas, there was nothing, which brought the smallest tear to his eye, and as it rolled gently down his cheek he searched deep for the emotions this would have once stirred, yet again there was nothing.

He looked to Orion and he asked the question, hoping that a voice would echo out a reply that would put him at ease. As he did, a shooting star passed through it then faded, and he thought to himself, was that the answer, was it to be that what he had truly held onto for the short while was destined to come and go, to fade like the star itself? Surely not, he thought again, and fear washed over him. Today, his dearest friend had found some words where she had thought they no longer existed, which brought a smile to his face and added hope to his heart. Her words spoke of time past and times present, yet their magic was far beyond his imagination could take him. They were different, yet the same in so many ways, and whilst she drew from the deepest parts of her soul and poured her words out like opening up herself to reveal all she contained, his words only spoke of dreams and imaginings. Yes they were the same, but at the same time different and his stories took his friends to places that did not exist, not in real life anyway. He opened up their minds to dream and imagine things that only children dared to do.

As he sat peering into the darkness, the sounds of the waves disappeared, and the stillness of the night air began to hum with the all too familiar sounds. In the darkness, a single white light drifted upon the wind and as it came close, its form unveiled itself. A single faerie, with a single lantern landed upon his shoulder, then she whispered in his ear. “I have heard you calling,” which brought a puzzled look upon his face. “Yes,” she continued. “You have been lost within the world of the grown ups haven’t you? The words you seek you will find once again, and you will be inspired as you have before to fill the minds of others with the most wonderful of thoughts.” She smiled and noticed his puzzled look. “You have a gift so rarely found. It is a magic that brings us to life, it is the ability to make those that your words touch live with a hope in their hearts, to believe that youth will never leave as long as you choose to believe.” He remembered now the same words he had uttered to his two friends not that long ago, and yes, the faerie was right, he did need to believe.

She pointed to the sky and he watched now as a satellite passed through Orion, and she smiled. “You are like the satellite, coming and going, but never fading away, always there. The stars are like your inner child, always with you for the entire world to see and know. Come with me now, your friends await your return, and know that the time will be soon when the magic you have weaved will be woven once more and the smile upon your face and the faces of others will be reward for who you are to them.” As he left the cliff top, with the sound of the ocean returning once more, his friend sat quietly upon his shoulder and guided the way with her bright lantern and in its glow, he felt young once more. As he reached the edge of the field, he held his hands by his side and let his fingers run upon the flowers that had bloomed in the sunlight, but were now closed in the cool night air and he thought to himself that like them, he would bloom once more in the morning light.

In a moment, the faerie was gone, but now he had the belief that he would write his magic words again one day soon. As he walked now in the light that shone from the familiar Friendship Tree, he felt at ease and at one with his friends so close. He would find his strength in their words and their thoughts. He would write his words so that they would once again dream as only children do. Whether deep within the forest, sitting upon a cliff overlooking the ocean and its wonder, or high in the tree that was the beacon for all the world to see that a friendship like they shared can be unbelievable, yet it was true.

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