Just around the corner, at the bottom of the garden, there they were. Blue trumpet flowers over flowing among the ferns. The mist was hiding them a bit but her tiny fingers carefully pushed them aside.
Stella was quiet as possible but at the first sight of movement she could not suppress a giggle. Such delight flooded through her little body, such a privilege to be the only one able to see the fairies. She spoke a soft “hello beauties” and two lavender winged fairies rose up atop the ferns. So tiny she only held out one finger for them to light upon. No words were spoken by them, but they smiled and nodded in greeting.
Stella was so happy remembering the stories her great grandmother told her about this place in the garden. It seems the ability to see the fairies skips every two generations.