Crystal Dreams

Betsy lived in a grand house with a large garden, which was just as well, for she seldom had friends in as her parents spent more time with their business chain then they did with her and they preferred to not have children running around..

After all were asleep, she would quietly creep out to the garden where she would call to her wonderland friends, who would dance and fly from the undergrowth and the moonbeam lit foliage to join in rings of chatter and discussions of their latest spells.

She loved these times they shared, but this particular night the skies opened and poured down on them, much too heavily for Betsy to make it back to the house without getting drenched and all her faerie companions immediately slipped back out of sight to protect the fragility of their gossamered wings, so she took refuge under one of her favourite shrubs.

It was the darkest glossy green and stood the height of their Christmas trees but really, it was it's leaves which fascinated her. They each had their own unique form, which changed night after night and on this wet, rainy one, Betsy watched in wonder as the leaves spread as small green  fingers, intertwining together like holding hands in a way which gave her the benefit of a 'garden' umbrella.

“You are so magical” she whispered, ”It is such a shame you do not ever have blossoms, for I heard my mother tell the gardener that she wished some of the non flowering shrubs to be replace with ones which would give a delightful display for their party guest next month”

The shrub was taken aback and smiled, “Thank you, Betsy, you embarrass me in my lack of blooms, for I have heard the criticism many times but never before received a compliment”

The rain had stooped and Betsy crept out from under the protective umbrella and watch as the leaves drew back into their rightful positions around their branches as Betsy let out a gasp of delight….

“Not only magical, but you are beautiful too, for the rain has formed crystal droplets all over you and you look just like the chandelier in the dining room, only more sparkly out here in the moonlight, like diamonds, but nightnight, Dear Bush, now I must creep back into bed”

 In the morning she was awakened by her mother’s voice calling her father,

“Come look at that dreadfully dull bush at the end of the terrace, it isn’t so dreary anymore, in fact, our guests will love it!”

 Betsy jumped out of bed, opened her window and looked down…she couldn’t believe her eyes and still in her pyjamas, she quickly ran downstairs and out of the front door.

Her favourite bush was covered in hanging crystal teardrops, glistening brightly in the morning sunlight. She threw her arms around the sparkling shrub and as she withdrew, her hands caught a few of the teardrops from the branches, but, as she watched, they were instantly replaced as if by magic by new ones growing down from the empty spaces she had left!

“You are not only magical and beautiful” she whispered to her beloved bush,

 but now you are safe and will be here for always”


(c) ZYDHA HART 2010   (542 words)