Lillia sat upon a nursery log spotted with moss and baby firs, little leg swinging as she stared at the wildflowers she held in her hand. The air was soft and warm, and flowers were in bloom in the trees above her, their little white petals falling into her curled brown hair. She squirmed, but didn’t stand, instead picking at one little daisy in her bunch, pulling its petals off slowly and carefully, like a surgeon. With care, she placed each petal on her leg in a row, until none were left. She had decided she wanted to make a little pixie hat, for the fairies in her family’s garden. She’d found a door on the base of their towering oak, and had been wondering how to greet the new neighbors. She had even brought a needle and thread to sew it together. But as she stared at the tiny petals, tears bubbled in her eyes.
“It won’t work.” She mumbled to herself, kicking at ground she couldn’t reach. “I can’t do it.”
“What’s wrong?” She lifted her head in surprise. A boy with dark forest skin and curly black hair stood in front of her with curious puppy eyes. His clothes were simple overalls and a white shirt, with green muddy rain boots. She pulled out her needle and thread, placing the messy bouquet down to show him the pretty daisy petals all lined up in a row.
“I want to make a little fairy hat.” She said, eyes drooping as she threaded the needle.
“But I might break the petals. Or maybe it will look ugly.” The boy pondered this, lips pursed and head tilted to the side, before returning her gaze with a smile.
“Well, you still have a lotta daisies. And even if it doesn’t look pretty, the fairy will take it anyways. My sister told me fairies like gifts. They enchant them to make them last forever too.” Lillia stared at the boy for a second longer before smiling and knotting her thread with clumsy fingers.
“Maybe you’re right.” She said, with a happy hum. Sitting next to her, hands in his lap, the boy watched her sew, enraptured. With tiny stitches, one side of the hat began to form, petals barely bruised from the sharp needle point.
“Woah.” The boy looked on as she made a cute little hat. “I wanna sew too.” Lillia giggled, covering her mouth.
“Silly, boys don’t sew!” The boy pouted.
“Why not? I bet I could sew real great!”
“Boys’ hands are too big!”
“Well, I have very small hands for a boy!”
Lillia opened her mouth to argue more, but she gave up, impassionately shrugging.
“I’ll show you if you bring some needles and cloth. You can learn with me. I’ll teach you everything my mom teaches me.” She smiled, happy to teach someone something she was good at. The boy’s eyes lit up.
“Yes!” He cheered, launching up from the log with delight, and laughing as she giggled at him. “I’m going to sew a book cover for my big sister’s birthday!”
“Your sister likes to read?” Lillia asked, poking at her almost half-done hat. The boy nodded.
“She reads a lot. She even reads out loud to me at night.”
“My mama sometimes reads to me too! Last night, she read me a story about a princess and a prince. The princess was very beautiful, so the prince wanted to marry her. But a witch was jealous and turned her ugly and locked her away in a tower. But the prince still loves her, so he married her, even when she was ugly. Mama says that’s because he loved her heart.” She said, and shrugged. She didn’t understand those kinds of stories, where beautiful girls and handsome men kissed and lived happily ever after. “What kind of story does your sister read to you?”
“Well, I like stories about pirates and witches, so she just finds those kinds of stories. I also like stories about falling in love.” Lillia wrinkled her nose. So he liked those kinds of stories…
“I don’t understand love.” She mumbled, her hands stopping as she placed the near-finished hat on her lap. “Why does everyone like it so much? What’s falling in love like? I just… don’t understand.” The boy stared, looking at her with curiosity.
“My sister said it was like a happy dream and eating your favorite food at the same time. It makes you really happy.” Lillia looked at him skeptically.
“That sounds silly… I still don’t get it.” She grumbled, crossing her arms with a pout.
“Imagine it,” he encouraged her, “Close your eyes and think of a happy dream.” Glancing with uncertainty at the mysterious boy one last time, she closed her eyes and imagined.
A field of yellow sunflowers, she thought to herself. It goes on forever. And there are cute rainbow beetles on the ground crawling and fluttering around with a humm, but not too close to me. The sky is blue and puffy, fluffy clouds drift lazily across the sky.
“Now think about your favorite food.”
Gingerbread. Fresh on her favorite porcelain plate with a wavy green ribbon painted on top. The air smells like smoke and spice, because the furnace is lit. Mommy is brushing my hair, and saying I can have as much as I want. She took a bite, imagining its fragrant scent filling her mouth and nose.
“Since it tastes, looks, feels, smells and is amazing, it feels great, right?” She nodded. His voice was soft, sweet like a dove’s cooing. It made her heart flutter to hear it. “Now imagine all the happiness you get from this, plus one. When you find someone who loves you and you love them, all this happiness rushes through you in a burst of light. You’re happier than you’ve ever been. Maybe even more.”
Slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking in the dappled sunlight as it passed between the leaves. Turning to her left to see the boy’s round smiling face, dark skin glowing like honey and amber in the light, bright eyes wide and glistening. His face, framed in a golden halation, trapped her breath in a fluttering gasp as he watched her expression in anticipation for her answer.
“So?”
Her fingers tingled, her cheeks felt hot, and strange tears wandered into her eyes, not of sadness, but of wonder and delight. She had to look away, pink and different from before, hiding a smile behind an open palm.
“I think… I think I get it now.” But it wasn’t a burst of light, she thought to herself. It was a golden glow.