Whispering Fairies
Close your eyes
What do you see?
I see little fairies looking at me…
Red lights, blue lights, yellow lights, and gold…
The fairies have so many stories to tell, untold…
I bundled my toddlers into the back seat of the car, as we returned home in the evenings from my parents’ house. We had spent the afternoon with them, as we did frequently. We would have our tea there. Mama’s specialty was cheese toasts. Papa did not like the smell of cheese, so perhaps we would have a hot bowl of soup. We would chat, and Papa and Mama would cuddle with my little ones or tell them stories. It was very pleasant being with them, and most evenings, I lingered on as long as I could. When it was time to go, I would change them into their pajamas and all-in-ones, ready to go straight to bed.
We would drive through the back streets to go home. It was almost a straight line to get there. It took no more than ten minutes at most. Tehran is situated at the foot of the Alborz Mountains. As we drove along, there was a dip in the road, and suddenly the glittering magical lights of the city presented themselves. My children, wide-eyed and sucking their thumbs, would wait for that moment. It was then that I would recite the phrase above. I would continue to tell them about the magical activities of the fairies. Those would coincide with what we had done that day.
Years later the same fairies would be part of my grandson Teal’s stories, except his fairies lived beneath the slide that was shaded by the big tree in their garden in Boulder. We had ‘built’ a dwelling for the fairies there with tiny plastic toy houses. Teal would go down each morning to see if he could spot them. One day his mother set the table for the fairies to eat during the night as we slept. Having forgotten that, I went to get a glass of water. Teal had been keeping an eye out for them. When he heard me, he cried at the top of his voice. “Grandma, you scared the fairies away!” he sobbed. So his mother and I sang to the fairies. “They are not afraid anymore,” we convinced him.
Teal delighted in the stories I told and wrote for him. My children couldn’t remember them. When I did not visit, I wrote and illustrated stories that I sent him through the mail. One day he did not receive his daily story. He asked his mother to dial me. I was not home. On the answering machine, he requested, “Grandma, I want my wetters!” I will never forget that innocent toddler’s voice. To this day, I hear it in my head.
So many years have passed since then. My children are in their early fifties. Teal is twenty. I had forgotten about all the fairies, but this morning, in the magical state between sleep and wakefulness, I heard my voice saying,
“Close your eyes
What do you see?
I see little fairies looking at me…”
In my sleep, I smiled to myself. That was many years ago, so many years ago…
I got out of my cozy warm bed, put on my old comfy dressing gown, and slowly went down the stairs to make myself a cup of tea.
The skies are cloudy. The house is silent except for the tick-tock of my old clock.
Aah! Memories…