The Sword of Peace

Once upon a time there was a precious sword. Now, this sword belonged to a great King, and for as long as anyone could remember, the King spent all his time in his palace, enjoying his shows and parties. One day a great dispute broke out between this King and the King of a neighbouring country. It ended with both declaring war.
The sword was greatly excited at the prospect of taking part in its first real battle. It would show everyone how truly brave and special it was, and would become renowned throughout the kingdom. On the way to the front line, the sword imagined itself the winner of many battles. However, when they arrived, the first battle had already taken place, and the sword got to see the results of war. What it saw had nothing in common with what the sword had imagined. No elegant shining knights, triumphant, with their weapons gleaming in the sunlight. Instead, all the sword saw was broken weapons, and hordes of hungry and thirsty men. There was hardly any food left. Everything was covered in dirt and shrouded in a disgusting smell. Many were half dead and scattered on the ground, bleeding from multiple wounds...
At this, the sword realised it liked neither wars nor battles. It decided it preferred to live in peace and spend its time taking part in tournaments and competitions. So, on the night before what was going to be the big final battle, the sword tried to find a way to prevent it from taking place. After a while, the sword started to vibrate. First it gave out a low buzz, but this gradually got louder, until it became an annoying metallic noise. The swords and armour of the other soldiers asked the King's sword what it was doing. It told them "I don't want there to be a battle tomorrow. I don't like war".
One answered, "No one likes it, but what can we do?"
"Make yourself vibrate, just like I'm doing", said the King's sword. "If we make enough noise no one will sleep."
So the weapons started vibrating, and the noise became deafening. It was so loud that it reached the enemy camp, and the weapons there, who were equally sick of the war, joined the protest.
The next morning, when the battle should have begun, not a single soldier was ready to fight. No one had managed to get even a wink of sleep, not even the Kings or the Generals. So they spent the whole day catching up on sleep. During the evening they started to wake up, and decided to put off the battle for the next day.
However, the weapons, led by the King's sword, spent the night repeating their peace song, and again no soldier could rest. The battle had to be postponed yet again, and this carried on for the next seven days. On the evening of the seventh day, the Kings of the two armies met to see what they could do about the situation. Both were furious from their previous dispute, but after being together for a while they started to discuss their sleepless nights, the surprise on their soldier's faces, the confusion of day with night, and the amusing situations all this had created. It wasn't long before both were laughing, like friends, at these little stories.
Fortunately, they forgot their old disputes and they put an end to the war, each returning to their own land with the double joy of not having had to fight, and having regained a friend. And from then on, from time to time the Kings would meet up to talk about their experiences as Kings. They now understood that the things which united them were much more numerous than anything that set them apart from each other.

Weather Watch

	The weather really has its say On when and where we go to play Outside or in, it makes you choose, Which clothes to wear or toys to use. In summer, outside is the choice The sunshine lets our hearts rejoice, To leap and jump and act the clown Until, at last, the sun goes down. In winter, more inside you stay, For shorter is the light of day, Unless of course, it starts to snow When wrapped up, outside must you go. But anytime of year is fun, The cold, the rain, the shining sun There's always lots of things to do A favourite game, or something new.	*
The End

Puppy Pete

	A puppy by the name of Pete Was small and warm and rather sweet A smile he brought to every face Who met him and his gentle grace. He wagged his tail non-stop each day And never tired of games to play He never begged and never growled And in the night-time never howled. In fact Pete seemed the perfect pet Until one day, a cat he met, And not quite knowing what to do, He chased it for an hour or two. And now each time he sees a cat, He stands, when just before he sat, No longer quiet, calm and cute, He hurries off in hot pursuit.	*
The End

Things 24

	1. Your presence is a present to the world. 2. You're unique and one of a kind. 3. Your life can be what you want it to be. 4. Take the days just one at a time. 5. Count your blessings, not your troubles. 6. You'll make it through whatever comes along. 7. Within you are so many answers. 8. Understand, have courage, be strong. 9. Don't put limits on yourself. 10. So many dreams are waiting to be realized. 11. Decisions are too important to leave to chance. 12. Reach for your peak, your goal, and your prize. 13. Nothing wastes more energy than worrying. 14. The longer one carries a problem, the heavier it gets. 15. Don't take things too seriously. 16. Live a life of serenity, not a life of regrets. 17. Remember that a little love goes a long way. 18. Remember that a lot goes forever. 19. Remember that friendship is a wise investment. 20. Life's treasures are people -- together. 21. Realize that nothing is ever too late. 22. Do ordinary things in an extraordinary way. 23. Have health and hope and happiness. 24. Take the time to wish upon a star. ... And don't ever forget -- for even a day -- how very special you are.	*
The End

A to Z = Achieve

To Achieve Your Dreams, Remember Your A-Z's void negative sources, people, things and habits elieve in yourself. onsider things from every angle. on't give up and don't give in. njoy life today: yesterday is gone and tomorrow may never come. amily and Friends are hidden treasures. Seek them and enjoy their riches. ive more than you planned to give. ang on to your dreams. gnore those who try to discourage you. ust do it! eep on trying, no matter how hard it seems. It will get better. ove yourself first and foremost. ake it happen. ever lie, cheat or steal. Always strike a fair deal. pen your eyes and see things as they really are. ractice makes perfect. uitters never win and winners never quit. ead, study and learn about everything important in life. top procrastination. ake control of your own destiny. nderstand yourself in order to better understand others. isualize it ant it more than anything. ccelerate your efforts. ou are unique of all of Nature's creations. Nothing can replace you. ero in on your target, and go for it!

*

The End

All is Silent - Poem

	When the river runs and the criminals raise their guns...all is silent. When the leap frogs leap and when new babies sleep...all is silent. When the little babies burp and toddlers slurp...all is silent. When the sun goes down and the moon comes up...all is silent. When the ocean roars and the cockerel crows...all is silent. And now that I have finished this poem...all is silent.			*
The End

Goodnight

1. Sweet dreams, Sleep tight, Have a good dream tonight, Move away from the day, Relax and don't delay, Fly away to dream land, To a nice peacful place, Goodnight.

Willowby and The Wee One

The Darkness of Real had been gathering for weeks, sapping the Wee One's energy. It encased Tintagel in an earthly gloom and foreboding.  All the creatures of Tintagel were shrinking in stature and strength under the evil spirit.   The Wee One was confused by her inability to fly freely, but did her best to continue. 

Suddenly, lightening bolts began to dart down onto the Meadow, into the tree tops of the Little Wood.   They reached their fiery fingers into the Dell, frightening everyone.  It removed their magic powers.  The Darkness of Real began to take over the very heart of Tintagel.  The Wee One was caught between heaven and earth as she flitted to find her friends.  She fell like a stone, illuminated by the lightening bolts, that would not stop.  The storm showed no mercy for Tintagel or it's gentle creatures. 

The fae landed with a bump near an outcropping of cottoneaster that grew on the margin between the meadow and the Forest of Real.  She heard a cry of fear coming from deep within the prickly bushes.   Peering into the thicket she saw a tiny quivering ball of gray fur.  

Quickly she walked between the thorns moving deeper and deeper into the thicket.  In the very heart of the prickly web she found Willowby the rabbit.  "Oh, do come out Willowby, before you injure yourself in the thorns," she pleaded. 

"I'm afraid," he squeaked.

"Please don't be afraid, Willowby.  Lightening can't really hurt you in Tintagel, unless you let it.  This is a world of imagination and love.  If we fear, then the fear will grow.  We make our own reality here, pay it no heed," she said stroking his furry paw. 

The rabbit wanted to believe the fae but could not move, his fear had so overtaken his common sense.  "I will stay with you, Willowby but you know the fear will grow if we do not face it.  Come, let's face it together," she pleaded.  "I promise to stay with you."

Slowly, Willowby moved through the thicket trying not to catch his fur on the thorns.   Every now and then he would wince as his fur was caught.  He moved forward following the fae, not knowing what else to do.   Finally the pair found themselves on the edge of the meadow, as the thunder crashed and rumbled overhead.   The rabbit looked as if he wanted to return to the thicket but suddenly stiffened his resolve.

The Wee One and Willowby sat silently watching the dancing bolts of light.  Neither said a word for some minutes.  Finally the rabbit asked what they were to do.   "Nothing," the fae replied. 

"Nothing?" Willowby quizzed.

"Hmmmmmm, it will look like nothing but it is really something very important."

"What is that?" The rabbit said with a tremble in his voice. 

"We are going to face the fear and let it move through us, Willowby.  It looks simple but it is sometimes very difficult because you want to run away.  To run would be silly for the fear would just find you again.  It is best to just face it and get it over with, Willowby."

As the two friends sat watching, the lightening bolts began to move off far over the Land of Real.  "Do we have to stay here forever, Wee One?"

"No, I think it is time to go about our lives now, Willowby.  The thing has gone and we have faced it together.  Let's go play in the meadow.  Last one there is a mud pie."

 

The Spirit

The Wee One, sat in her thinking place, puzzling. The purple hyacinths grew behind the moss covered rock she sat upon.   She was wondering if what she wanted to do was the right thing.  The longer she sat  in her thinking spot, the more she believed her idea was a good one. With her mind made up to do something she had never done before, the tiny fae  took flight on golden wings.

The fae flitted high into the air over the giant oaks and beyond the meadow.  She   fluttered down on the shore of the Sparkling Lake.  The Wee One walked from one stone to another, towards a very large rock.  It stood above the others, like a beacon.   She hesitated for a moment before whispering to the stone.    Suddenly it appeared to rise a little into the air. 

The Wee One walked under the stone.  A  golden box sat beneath it.  Quickly she lifted the lid of the box.   A Spirit filled the tiny crystal box the fae now held in her hand.  As the fae walked out from under the great stone, it settled down once again.  Without a moment’s hesitation she took to the air.  The fae flitted to her home in the ancient oak,  the crystal box now safely in her pocket.

Once home, the Wee One set the box on her  mushroom  table.   The fireflies gathered overhead.  The crystal box glittered like diamonds.    With trembling hands the Wee One opened the box.  Suddenly, before her stood a beautiful Spirit. “Will you help me?” The Wee One pleaded.  The Spirit did not  so  much speak, as it thought.  The Wee One knew, the Spirit would help her. 

 “We shall begin our journey now,” the spirit thought.  *poof*   In a twinkling, both the Spirit and the Wee One were transported to a city, in the Land of Real.

The Wee  One was not prepared for what she saw when they materialized.  It was a place   that had things called buildings.  Some of the buildings were as tall as the  Magic Mountain.  The air smelled odd and tasted funny.  There was not a tree or flower to be seen.  “I am frightened,” the fae whispered to the Spirit. “Is this where the children come from?”

“Yes,”  the Spirit replied.  The Wee One shivered a bit, but the Spirit thought, “It will be okay, I’m with you.”  “Now quickly before it gets light open your pouch and do what you have come to do.” 

The Wee One reached deep into her pouch and gathered a handful of faerie dust.  With the Spirit by her side, she sprinkled the magic dust everywhere.  When they had finished the Spirit thought again.  “You have done well wee fae, for a first effort; now watch!”  Quietly,  a gentle rain began to fall.  The Spirit smiled, for the sprinkles began to grow flowers and trees everywhere they settled.

As the sun began to rise the city was ablaze with the color of beautiful flowers, twining green vines and stately trees.  From far beyond the  city  a rainbow appeared and held the city  in its arc.  The Spirit thought.  “It will make them happy wee fae, it truly  will.”   In a twinkle the Wee One and the Spirit sat together on a spire overlooking the city.   They   watched, as the children, the young and the old came out of their houses.  All looked about them with smiles and wonder.  The city was now bursting with  the beauty of flowers and the songs of birds in the young trees.

“It is time to go now,” the Spirit thought.  The Wee One nodded her head. *poof*  In a twinkle the two friends were back on the shore of the Sparkling Lake.   The Spirit returned to the golden box beneath the magic rock.  The Wee One sighed to see the Spirit go, but she knew the Spirit would always be present  for those in need of her.  

In a whisper the Wee One said, “thank you  for helping me... Hope.”

 

Miri and the Gardener

	The sun shines on the magic forest. It also shines on a giant oak tree, many centuries old. It’s in this tree that Miri’s family lives. Miri is a young Fairy, she’s very small, barely a few centimeters(A couple of inches) like all the fairies of her race. Miri loves that tree with the many cavities sculpted with art and dedication. But with the respect for the survival of the living tree, of course. The problem is that poor Miri is suffering from a mysterious illness. The magician healer was very upset. He had never encountered any such sickness before. He searched the memory books left by previous magician-healers to no avail unfortunately. The little fairy, courageously continued to believe, in spite of her suffering, that she would heal. Winter was long for little Miri who, from her bed entertained her friends. She could not stand sorrow so she kept her morale up. With spring came a hope, as fragile as the eggs in the nest. The healer had discovered a cure. But it was the powder that rests on the wings of butterflies. Hundreds maybe even thousands of butterflies,would be needed to harvest sufficient quantities for the medicine for Miri. Miri’s father was at the inn with his friend. He was discussing the problem of which no one seemed to know the solution. It was a sad day for Miri’s father. A stranger seated at a neighboring table, approached them discreetly as the custom prescribes. He told Miri’s father; ”I think I can help heal your daughter”. “Stranger, if you can accomplish that, I’ll give you everything you want” “I have no need for everything, all I need is work.” “Are you a healer?” “No a gardener, if you hire me I guarantee that your daughter will be healed by the end of summer." The honest tone and truthful gaze in the eyes of the gardener convinced Miri’s father to give him a chance. He had nothing to loose and Miri all to win... From her window, Miri looked at the gardener work, an old man with the precise movements acquired along a lifetime dedicated to the love of plants. The gardener planted lilac trees in many shades. He even planted unknown plants, bushes and flowers with strange, mysterious names that brings visions of exotic places. The old man told Miri that soon, he assured her, it would translate into a symphony of colors and textures that will perfume the air. He had such a pleasurable expression as he said it, that Miri was certain “HE” could smell it already. Miri observed as the young sprout escaped the soil, as the tender green shoots grew. Soon flower buds appeared followed by the most beautiful blooms. The gossipers were having a good time. “Shameful, he buys himself a garden while his daughter, poor girl, lay sick and all. Shameful, I tell you.” Then one warm day, attracted by the selected flowers butterflies came, more and more of them kept coming to invade the garden. The gardener installed a lawn chairs in the clearing and installed Miri comfortably in it. Miri received a shower of the powder falling from the wings of the butterflies. The powder was of many colors shining in the sun. The rays of the sun reflected in the fine powder. The clearing was bathed in the light and in that light Miri’s healing… In a week Miri was cured. Her delicate wings shone brightly again. Her face had regained her healthy colors and above all her smile was resplendent. And this is how Miri got her name: “MIRI THE BUTTERFLY FAIRY” Copyright ©1998 By Dr. Claude Gagné  To read more about Miri the Butterfly Fairy visit: http://miri.topcities.com
The End