Twinkle,

Twinkle

Little Star

 ﷯ Thrift stores are about the last place you ever want to visit when it is raining. Every garment emits a peculiar odor, heavy with the essence of the one who wore it last. Condensation on every window - silvery, dripping rivulets coursing their way down every pane. Air so thick and cold it penetrates into the very marrow of the bones. I was five years old and it was December in Fresno. My mom and grandma drove in to town every Friday to buy groceries, and go to the Catholic Charities Thrift Store. Fridays were a big day indeed. It was Boy’s market, Pay Less grocery store, Rudy’s Drug, and finally the stop at the thrift store. I never knew what it was like to wear a new garment until I was out of grammar school, and every piece of my clothing was either sewn by my mother or purchased used. Even the pretty patterned flour and feed sack fabric was magically turned into colorful cowboy shirts by my mother. Every one of these Friday shopping stops were on the “West Side” of Fresno, and this neighborhood was the worst. Located right on the edge of Chinatown, it was filled with winos, street people and hookers. However, with two Great Dane dogs riding shotgun in the back seat of my grandma’s big old ugly grey, four door ’42 Chevy, we all felt very safe. Running through the December rain, the minute I hit the door of the thrift shop, I held my breath as I hurried past the room with the mildewy-smelling clothing bins, making a bee-line for the far room with the used toys. I did a quick survey of the rusted, busted and broken toy-discards, but there never seemed to be any new items. From here I would proceed to the book room. The book room was situated between the huge smelly-clothes room and the broken toy room. The tiny book room was like an oasis in the discard-desert for me. It too smelled, but to me, the smell of musty, long unopened books was deliciously warm and sweet, compared to the rest of the store. No one ever came in to the tiny book room either, making it feel like my own private room, where I could sit and search every volume while grandma and mom looked at the ever so boring clothing, hoping for a good, inexpensive find. Those two gals would spend hours sifting through piles of discarded garments, looking for “treasures”. I always puzzled why people threw so many books away because there were always new additions every time I looked. I was there so often, I knew where every book was located and they never seemed to move. Just new volumes piled higher and in front of existing “residents”. I observed that no one ever seemed to buy any of the books either. I was fortunate to have a mother who always said yes, when I picked out an armload of books I wanted to claim as my own. The winter days in Fresno can be quite dismal, drippy and grey. During this mid-December stop at the thrift shop, I made my usual bee-line for my private sanctuary room. I pulled out the odd little dangerous rolling footstool that served as the means to find books that sat higher on the shelves. Doing a quick scan of the books, it looked like everyone was focused on the Christmas season, and no new donations appeared on any shelf. I decided to borrow a short ladder from the back room and see what I might have missed in the past, on the very tip-top shelf. I ascended the ladder carefully and balanced precariously on the top rung. I carefully moved a stack of delicately balanced magazines and behind them I spied a group of dusty, hidden, leather-bound volumes, pushed to the very back of the shelf in the extreme corner. I stretched to reach the closest book. Barely visible and faded with age, the title on the spine read, “Fairy Stories”. What a find! I eagerly removed several of the books from the stack, and sitting on the odd little rolling stool, I began to go through the pages. There were stories and illustrations in these books like I had never imagined before. Stories and pictures that told of kings and queens, princesses and princes, fairies, gnomes and elves. I was completely enchanted with every turn of the page, even though I wasn’t able to read a lot of the words at five years old. Recalling I had seen what seemed like more of the set, I went back up the ladder again to retrieve the rest. I made a few trips up and down the ladder, each time laden with the precious volumes. As my chubby fingers were reaching for the last book, I thought I heard a tiny, tinkley voice whispering to me from the back of the high, dusty book-shelf. I refocused my eyes, not believing I actually heard anything at all. Squinting into the dimness, I could barely see a filmy shape of what appeared to be a fairy. At least it looked like the images I had seen in the books. The flickering form came and went for a few seconds, then seemed to take shape enough for me to actually almost see. “Here I am,” the voice suddenly spoke out perkily, from atop the highest shelf. Being a young child with a huge imagination, I assumed the fairy was indeed real and probably a natural occurrence in everyone’s life. The book-sprite went on, “ I’ve been here all along, watching you every time you come in and look at the books in this room. You just hadn’t noticed me yet.” I craned my neck to get a better look. “My name is Twinkle and I’d like to take you on a journey with me,” she continued. I knew my mother and grandma would be at least an hour mulling over any new arrivals in the next room, so I replied, “OK!” with much enthusiasm. “But how will we travel?” I inquired of the diaphanous apparition. Twinkle instructed me to climb to the highest rung of the ladder and reach my fingers tips into the space where the old fairy tale books had been sitting. She would help me the rest of the way. I followed her instructions and as my fingers touched the back of the highest shelf, it felt much like sticking my hand in front of my mom’s old Electrolux vacuum cleaner. There was a swift, silent whoosh and my body was magically transported through the dark hole left by the fairy story books. Arriving on the other side, I discovered I had become the same size as the fairy, Twinkle. She had hold of my hand and we were airborne, flying gracefully through the air. I was ecstatic with being able to fly and having such a fun time darting and hovering as I chose. My head was off in another land when Twinkle called out to me, “We’re going on a journey to seek some gifts for you.” Heavens knew our family was poor, and the aspect of Christmas presents was exciting. Thrilled at being light, buoyant and flying and the thought of presents, I merrily glided along beside Twinkle, covering thousands of miles in record time. We first came to a large body of land in the middle of a very wide ocean, and zeroed in on a rather barren looking patch, with Blue Gum trees dotting the landscape. The tree we landed in was inhabited with animated pink and grey parrots, all laughing, chattering, and cavorting, non-stop. “This is the Great Dry-desert and we will fly to the tip-top of the Blue Gum tree and claim your first gift,” Twinkle instructed me. It was easy to see who the ruler of this kingdom was! The Great Grand Galah greeted us with flapping wings and ear-splitting screeches. He had to be the ruler because he was the fattest and happiest of all the gay Galahs. He fairly bubbled over with mirth, and his eyes were filled with glee. Now what gift could this pink bird offer me, I quietly wondered? Great Grand Galah peered at Twinkle and me and asked, “What brings you two here to the Great Dry-desert today?” Twinkle answered him, “We came for the special gift you have for children.” “Ohhh – that gift,” Great Grand Galah’s face lit up and he flapped his wings wildly. As his wings flapped, thousands of tiny pink, glittering, sugar hearts were unleashed, swirling over my head, and as they drifted downward I was covered with them, like a cotton candy whirlwind. I must have looked puzzled by it all, because Great Grand Galah instructed me, “I am the dispenser of the pink hearts of heavenly happiness, and I bestow these onto you. I have given you enough happiness hearts to last your lifetime.” There was just enough time to utter a quick thank you to Great Grand Galah, and Twinkle had me by the hand and airborne again. “We don’t have too far to go to get your next gift,” she assured me. It was a mere hop to the north, over to another island. A much smaller island, but it was incredibly green and lush with vegetation. “Hmm” – mused Twinkle,” as we landed on the verdant, cushiony forest floor, “ I wonder which tree he is hiding in today?” We squinted our eyes toward the tree tops and found one tree much taller and greener than the rest. “That must be it,” Twinkle exclaimed. Flying straight up, a stroke of luck landed us on a branch just below a very large, noble, iridescent green parrot. He looked haughtily down at Twinkle and me, breaking the silence with his grand orange beak, “What brings you to my high green tree today?” Again, Twinkle quickly replied, “We came for the special gift you share with children.” The huge green satiny bird turned his magnificent head and looked knowingly at us, saying with approval, “Fine then. My name is Armond Aruensis, and I am the master and mighty ruler of Aru Island. I will happily grant your wish of the splendid gift you came for.” Armond Aruensis carefully reached under his wing and produced a glowing, magic golden ring. Magic, because as he extended it toward me, holding it above me on his wing tip, the ring grew in size and radiance, stretching until it fit around my body and enveloped me in its glittering warm glow, penetrating into my body. Hastening to explain, Armond Aruensis informed me, “My gift to you is the golden ring of integrity and honor. It is golden, because gold can never be tarnished or destroyed, and it is in the form of a ring, because your integrity will never end, just as a ring has no ending.” Armond Aruensis continued in his low, gentle voice, “While you are visiting my kingdom today, you may claim your third and most important gift of all, that everyone seeks in life, right in this same tree. Pay close attention because the final gift you will be receiving is always closer to us than we ever realize.” Twinkle and I looked at one another with the mutual question passing between our eyes – no trip over an ocean or far away land to find the gift? Oh, what could it be that might be so easy to find and close by? With a sideways gesture from his noble green head, Armond Aruensis, mighty ruler of Aru Island, instructed us to shinny a few feet down his tree-home and we would discover a large knot-hole. “There you will find the last, and certainly the very most important gift you will ever be given,” he instructed. Sliding down the smooth-bark tree surface, we quickly found the knot-hole, as described. We peered cautiously into the shadowy darkness of the knot-hole, not knowing what might be inside. Very slowly, a lovely, regal red head appeared, and as she stepped out of the nest hole, we were amazed to see the most incredible velvety, red bird we could ever imagine existed. The breathtakingly beautiful creature opened her shiny black beak to say, “I am Queen Anne Aruensis, of Aru Island. Why have you come to visit my nest hole, please?” Recovering her fairy-tongue swiftly, Twinkle said, “We came for the special gift you have for children.” “Ahh – THAT gift.” Queen Anne Aruensis blinked her huge silvery eyes slowly, in recognition. Queen Anne Aruensis stepped further out of her nest hole, and parted the feathers on her breast to reveal a huge, warm heart, filled to the brim with love. She then stepped a bit to the side to proudly reveal two fuzzy, fat babies in the nest hole. They were content and sleeping. “ I bestow onto you a mother’s precious, all encompassing, unconditional love. The kind of love that enters your pores and travels straight to your heart, never to leave your being.” As Queen Anne Aruensis was saying these words, I felt my body experience a total warmth and I looked down to see a red glow lighting up my limbs. Inside of me, it felt just like sipping warm cocoa, sitting by our warm fireplace hearth, gazing at the Christmas tree lights on a cold winter night. A complete contentment and happiness came upon me. “As you travel your life’s path my dear, please always remember to wear this aura of love I give to you, and be the very best shining example of love as you meet others. Love needs to be given away freely to all, so we may stay fulfilled and filled with love ourselves,” finished Queen Anne Aruensis, with the sides of her black beak curling into a sweet, mystical smile. Next thing I was aware of was the sound of my mother’s voice and the touch of her hand on my shoulder. “Wake up dear. It’s time to go home,” Mother said, adding, “You certainly must have been tired with Christmas and all, to fall asleep on the floor here.” I immediately looked toward the ceiling and the top shelf, where I last remembered finding the fairy story books. They were missing! But as I looked toward the floor, there they were, stacked in a haphazard fashion. I looked beseechingly up at my mother, and asked if she would please buy these wonderful books for me as a Christmas gift. Mother asked the price of the volumes at the counter, and sadly shook her head no because we couldn’t afford them this year. That Christmas Eve I was really tired and fell asleep by the tree, basking in the warm glow of the fireplace. I had many dreams that night, and every so often through heavy eye lids, I would see a whole group of fairies wisping their way around, in and about the branches of our tree. The smoky looking little apparitions were playing games and frolicking amongst the pine needles and tinsel. One fairy stood out quite prominently and seemed to be the leader of the group. They called her Twinkle. Christmas morning I woke slowly, not wanting to come out of my lovely dream, dominated by happy, wispy creatures, cavorting on our holiday tree. The first thing I saw were presents under the tree that hadn’t been there the night before. I was excited to see what they might be, and rushed to unwrap the largest in the pile of gaily-wrapped gifts. As I tore the covering off, I found the much-coveted set of fairy story books from the Catholic Charities Thrift Store. And, as I opened the inside cover of the first fairy book, out fell three feathers – a pink feather, a green feather and a red feather. I heard a slight rustling overhead and when I looked up - there was Twinkle, grinning at me from her high branch on our Christmas tree. Twinkle, twinkle, little star, 
How I wonder what you are!
 Up above the world so high, 
Like a diamond in the sky!

 When the blazing sun is gone,
 When he nothing shines upon,
 Then you show your little light,
 Twinkle, twinkle, all the night. 

 Then the traveller in the dark,
 Thanks you for your tiny spark,
 He could not see which way to go,
 If you did not twinkle so.
 In the dark blue sky you keep,
 And often through my curtains peep,
 For you never shut your eye,
 Till the sun is in the sky.

 As your bright and tiny spark, 
Lights the traveller in the dark,—
 Though I know not what you are,
 Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
By Susie Christian

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Copyright ©2016, Susie Christian Artwork by Susie Christian© All Rights Reserved by respective parties. No portion of this site may be duplicated or reused in any form without the express written permission of Susie Christian Last Updated December 17, 2016 Bear Canyon Productions