As a young child, maybe around the age of 5, or 6, or 7, I don’t remember for sure now. I started having nightmares.

(My brother, Dan, my great-Uncle Henry… 1914-1980… Love Grandma’s youngest brother, and myself on Easter Morning.)

The nightmares were awful things, scary, frightening full of terror…more than monsters under the bed or in the closet, or coming up the basement stairs.

I couldn’t go outside at night for fear of the nighttime…it was a horrible time of dark magic for me.

Then Momma hit upon the idea of helping me reclaim the real magic of the world. She would put me to bed with stories of fairies and angels.

She talked about fairies who lived right there in the cherry orchard by our house, fluttering in fun little dances under flowers in her flower beds.

She told about Angels who lived in the sky, reaching out helping hands to grab our prayers as they flew by, then taking them to Heavenly Father so he could hear our prayers also, she described how the Angels made sure the stars were polished and sparkling each night and that the Angels would visit with the Man in the Moon.

Her stories were marvelous, vivid and just plain fun.

(My brother and I)

It took a little while….magic always does….but she gave back to me the safety and enchantment of our marvelous planet, the vastness of the heavens and the colors of the rainbow.

Of which I am eternally grateful!

P.S.  I went out and checked all the Apricot blooms again and it looks like the second flush of blooms is going to make into apricots!  WOW!  What a surprise!

From my world to your heart,

Linda