While discussing Anne of Green Gables last night at book club, I discovered something about myself.
I apparently still believe in fairies.
One person said she'd found Anne's talk of fairies and wood nymphs interesting, but she'd never, even as a child, believed in fairies. The other ladies agreed. However, I admitted I grew up believing in all of it and then had to add. "I guess I still do."
At that moment to say to that fairies and gnomes and other such creatures don't exist was just more than I could do.
How odd is that? Even to me it seems odd. However, after much thinking about it, I can't give it up. When the moon is bright and I go inside to bed, the idea that my flower beds are empty until morning just doesn't seem right. When I see a tiny pool of water in the hollow of a violet leaf, of course, it's where a fairy washed her face. Secret, cozy hideways under the hosta leaves must be for someone to enjoy during a summer rainshower.
As I said last night, "I'd rather believe fairies exist, than deal with a world where they don't."
It's all about possibility. Try it. Pretend your yard is the playground of fairies and they come out when you go inside. See if it doesn't make sleep sweeter and the morning brighter.
Before long you'll be believing all kinds of things - like agents call, blogs get read, kids grow up, and guacomole can be low-fat!