by Rolli
There is a sweet fairy in every girl. Her name is Christine. It doesn’t matter what the girl’s name is. It could be April or Susan or Penelope. The fairy’s name is always Christine.
Christine has pink hair and a yellow dress. She has soft hands like pancakes. She wears lots and lots of necklaces but not too much makeup. It’s hard not to love her.
The first time I met Christine, I was walking home from school. I was mad because … I can’t remember why. But I was mad. A lady had her recycling stuff in a blue recycling basket. It was sitting by the curb. I just wanted to kick that basket so bad. I swung my foot back….
“Hi ya!” said a squeaky voice.
I looked around. I couldn’t see anyone.
“Hi ya! Hi ya! Hi ya!”
Then I realized the voice was coming from in my stomach.
“Hi,” I said. “Um, who is this?”
“Christine,” said the voice.
“Christine who?” I said.
“Christine, silly. You know, the sweet fairy who lives in every girl.”
“Oh, right,” I said. Even though I’d never heard of her at that time.
“So how ya feelin’, honey-plum?”
“Lousy,” I said.
“Wonderful!” cried the fairy.
I couldn’t believe she even said that. I told her.
“Well,” she said, “you look lovely. Your cheeks are just rosy with rage. They match your shoes be-ootifully.”
I kind of smiled. Though I hadn’t planned on it. Christine kept talking.
“I’m so sorry to bother ya, sweetie, but could I get ‘cha to do me a big flavor?”
“A favor?” I asked.
“A flavor,” she said.
“Oh,” I said. “What flavor?”
“Raspberry.”
I didn’t really know what that meant. But I still said okay.
“Terrific!” she squeaked. “Could I get ‘cha, then, to touch your toes?”
I had a question mark over my head. But I did it anyway.
“Good. Now, do ten jumping jacks.”
I did.
“Great. Now run around that tree. Keep running. Keep running. Keeeep running. You’re doin’ great. Now stop!”
I stopped.
“Howdya feel now, sweet beet?”
“Tired.” I said.
“Perfect!” she cried.
“Perfect?” I gasped.
“Well, it sure beats feelin’ angry.” She giggled. “Doesn’t it?”
I said I guess so. I waited for her to answer, but she didn’t. She must’ve gone back to sleep.
The next time I heard from Christine was on my birthday. I woke up, and it was raining. No one wants it to rain on their birthday. I felt like crying.
“Hi ya, sweetums!” said Christine from my stomach.
“Hi,” I grumbled.
“Nice day,” she said.
“Not really,” I grumbled.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. The rain’s shining, the clouds are singing. Just lovely.”
I didn’t mean to, but I chuckled.
“Say, sweetie-pie, d’ya think I could getcha to do me another big flavor?”
“What flavor?” I asked.
“Peppermint swirl.”
I nodded.
“Great! Just stand on your left foot.”
I did.
“Now your right foot.”
I did.
“Now your left foot.”
I did.
“Right foot. Left foot. Right foot.”
I did all that.
“Now spin around and around. Faster! Faster! Faster, honey-plum!”
I did my best.
“Now stop!”
I stopped.
“So, hon, howdya feel now?”
“Dizzy,” I said.
“Super!” cried the fairy.
My jaw fell down.
“Well, it’s sure better than feelin’ crummy, isn’t it?”
I guess it was. I told her that, but there was no answer. Maybe she’d gone to the bathroom.
The last time I talked to Christine, it was the first day of grade three. I was walking to school. I was so nervous. I’d never been to grade three before. I wasn’t sure what to expect. It felt like there was a puppy in my stomach. At first I thought the puppy was talking, but then I realized it was just Christine.
“Hi ya!” she squeaked.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hot today,” she said.
“Yup,” I said.
“Awful hot.”
I nodded.
“A hot bowl o’ soup, that’s for sure. Need a few penguins to swim around in it, cool it down a little.”
I laughed out loud. I hadn’t expected to.
“Well, sweetums, I betcha know by now what I’m gonna ask you for.”
“A flavor?” I guessed.
“You got it,” she said. “And this time make it…triple chocolate fudge. With sprinkles.”
I said okay.
“Great! This one’s easy. There’s some figures I’d like ya to double-check for me. First, add three and four.”
I did.
“Now times it by ten.”
I did.
“Now divide it by two.”
I did–I think.
“Now subtract seventeen.”
It was tough keeping up.
“Now add fifty. Now subtract fifty. Now times it all by a thousand. And what’ve ya got?”
“I’ve got…um…um…um. I’ve got no idea!”
“Yup,” said the fairy. “That’s what I’ve got, too.”
I was confused. I told Christine that.
“Excellent!” she said.
Now I was really confused.
“Figures don’t matter, my dear. And if something doesn’t matter, I say just throw it on the fire.”
I’d never thought of that before. I didn’t feel so nervous anymore. It was like I’d thrown my nervous on the fire.
“Next one’s a mini flavor, hon. Could I getcha to just close your eyes?”
I closed them.
“Count to ten.”
I counted.
“Now open ’em!”
I did. And there she was, floating in the air. Christine. She looked just like I expected. She had pink hair and a yellow dress. She had soft hands like pancakes. She wore lots and lots of necklaces but not too much makeup. If you’d seen her, you would’ve loved her for sure.
“I’ve gotta go now, kiddo,” she said.
“Where?”
“Wherever I’m needed, hon. Somewhere, there’s a baby girl being born who needs a sweet fairy.”
“But…what about me?”
“Oh, I’ve gotta feelin’, sweetie, you’ll be just fine. Ta!” And she flew off.
I was sad for a minute. Then I did feel fine. You know what? Christine was right.
Question Time
1. What is the name of the fairy who lives inside every little girl?
2. What does the fairy ask for?
3. Where does the fairy live?
4. What does the fairy look like?
