A Robin on the Windowsill
Written and Illustrated by
Spring tiptoed in. Its beauty and smell was everywhere,
except in Tiffany’s heart. The child sat pouting by the window.
She was angry. The apple blossoms on the tree outside her window,
made it difficult to see the street below. The accident that had
shaped her existence for the past four months had changed her. She
no longer laughed or played. She no longer thought of others, but
Tiffany waited for her Aunt Margaret to arrive and
read her a story. If the apple blossoms were not in the way she would
have been able to see her Aunt’s old car come down the street more easily.
“Stupid tree,” she exclaimed and threw her book across the room.
It landed on the floor with a clatter.
The Wee One perched on the edge of Robin’s nest, in
the apple tree. The nest was round and neat but contained no
eggs. A sudden storm had upset the eggs a week before. They
lay at the bottom of the tree, hidden in the tall grass. The fae
had come to say a comforting word or two of encouragement to the lonesome
bird. Robin decided she would start a new home, in the orchard.
The fae agreed this would be the best thing for her friend to do.
“New beginnings are good, Robin. Please, let me know where your new nest
is and I shall come and visit you. Good luck, friend,” the
fae called as Robin took wing.
“Now that I am here, I think I shall stay in this nest
and keep Tiffany company.” In a twinkle the Wee One changed herself
into a robin. As a robin, she flapped her much larger wings and fluttered
onto Tiffany’s windowsill. She peered into the room where the child
sat on her bed pouting. She chirped a greeting and the child smiled.
It wasn’t a very big smile, but it was a smile.
Day after day the fae appeared on Tiffany’s window
sill, as a robin. Soon the child waited for her friend to come each
day. As a robin the fae would sing Tiffany a song and hop on
her finger. The child soon saved a few bread crumbs for her
feathered friend and waited for the visit. If the robin were late,
the child would wait patiently.
The apple tree now became a living thing of beauty
to Tiffany. The gentle breezes danced through the flower laden branches.
Some of the spent blossoms drifted down, finding a resting place on the
tall grass beneath the tree. Bees buzzed and gathered pollen from
the fragrant flowers, still on the branches. Morning doves often
came to feed on the fallen bread crumbs.
Spring blossoms gave way to summer’s leaves and tiny
apples, on the tree. Late every afternoon the Wee One would appear
disguised as a robin. Tiffany’s circle of tree friends grew.
Squirrels, now visited the windowsill, for peanuts. They chattered
excitedly and filled their cheeks with the tasty morsels. She loved
to watch them jump from one branch to another. They would climb ever higher,
until they reached their nest high in the apple tree.
Tiffany’s world extended beyond the window sill, as
the days grew long. The grass under the apple tree was soft and warm
on her now healed leg. The accident and the anger she felt in the
early spring had vanished with the coming of the robin.
One night, when the moon shone in the sky as if a magic
orb, the robin returned to the window sill. With a shimmer and glimmer
the Wee One revealed herself to the child, as a fae, instead of a robin.
Tiffany was more delighted than surprised to see the tiny fae. Together,
they listened to the music of the night. They whispered about their
love for the animals and giggled together.
“Why didn’t you come to me as a fae, instead of a robin?” Tiffany quizzed.
The Wee One smiled and wrinkled her nose. “Because
you needed to see the magic that existed all around you first.
Only then can you see the magic of the fae.”
All the material on this page is Copyright 1999 Idris O'Neill