Our brilliant, beautiful daughter is five. This is a wonderful, spontaneous age where the
line between worlds is still blurred, where they're still almost as quick to laugh as they are
to cry, before the emotional and intuitive begins to get systematically shut down by
school and society.
She came home one day and said matter-of-factly, about one of her teachers, "Mommy,
Mrs. X told me faeries aren't real."
I was stunned. Surely Mrs. X knows daughter Allie loves the faerie realm. Allie looks for
signs of faeries in the trees below our house. She talks about "her" faeries like they're
household pets. She regales anyone who will listen about the goings-on in faerie land.
Surely Mrs. X realizes that in Europe, faeries are still a part of those cultures, bound to
nature and humankind by default. And if nothing else, Mrs. X should recognize that my
daughter is only FIVE YEARS OLD.
I had no idea how to respond. Fortunately, daughter already had the answer. She smiled
up at me and said brightly, "That's just her opinion. People can have different opinions,
you know." And she wandered off, leaving me standing alone by the kitchen sink,
seething, and in awe of her wisdom.
"Please don't tell my daughter faeries don't exist." By the time I finished the sentence, my
voice was cracking. "Don't tell my daughter faeries aren't real!"
With those words, the past and the present collided, in a timeless moment where I found
myself a little girl again, probably close to five years old, sobbing, "Don't you DARE
tell me faeries aren't real!"
And that's when I realized the truth. When I was her age, the same thing happened to me,
yet I lacked the wisdom and self-confidence she possesses. I bought into the concept of
the "real world". I bought into the Godless, magic-less world that was taught in schools,
by parents, teachers and authority figures. I slowly, gradually, sold out my heart,
accepted a black and white world over the incredible, magical beauty of Oneness that I
simply knew to be true. I felt condemned to live in this bleak world, where there was no
such thing as Light, only darkness.
So I looked at myself in the mirror, eye to eye, and asked myself if I was ready to accept
MY version of reality - or did I plan to continue suffering in theirs?
And then I started to smile. The magic really is everywhere, you know. It's just a matter
The children hold the key to salvation.
Teachings from a Master: "Why do ye perceive this illusion as the real world? This world
that is so devoid of love? Have ye so forgotten where ye have come from? Could it be
possible that there is a 'magical' world, where anger and depression does not exist?
Where love is totally and completely accepted, where everyone expresses and utilizes
their abilities in totality in service of one to each other? What if the mystical animals that
have been carried over into this culture in children's stories actually exist? What if
Unicorns, Faeries, Dragons actually exist? That place is no further away than a slice of
CODA: Wanting to view the situation with compassion rather than hurt and anger, I
sought Mrs. X out at the school's open house for a heart to heart. She told me her
story. Close to 40 years ago, she had been a gifted art student, so talented that by the
time she reached the end of high school, she had landed a full scholarship to college.
But her boyfriend at the time talked her out of it. She gave up her dream and the
I told her it wasn't too late- but in her eyes I saw only sorrow and surrender.
Which led me to wonder: how many of us adults are hiding grieving, wounded children
|Entry For February 1, 2007
Requiem for a Faerie