Robin Meade
Tia read the sentences again. “Tia slumped down against the trunk of the oak tree. Her despondent eyes looked up at the sky and she began to sob.”
“Hmph,” retorted Tia. “Tia does not slump! Tia finds a way to fight. This woman knows nothing about fairies. She must think Tia slumps because she wants to slump and CRY. There is no slumping over fighting for what is right.” Tia picked up the red pen next to the printed pages. Carefully she crossed out the slumping and crying part and then wrote her own thoughts.
“Fairies fight for what is right,” Tia asserted firmly, proud of her own contribution to the story. “Fairies shine light where there is darkness. Fairies…”
A low growl stopped Tia’s rant. Gypsy the Boxer mix was checking Tia out. Maybe for a snack.
“I can growl too, doggie,” Tia countered, “GRRRRRRRRR!”
Gypsy came closer to sniff Tia. But Tia was already in the air, dancing back and forth. Gypsy started to bark and bark, waking the house. Tia quickly flew back into the printed pages.
“Gypsy!” Marcia called, sleepily fumbling out of her bedroom. “What has gotten into you?”
Gypsy sat firmly next to the table, guarding the pages and sniffing the air.
Marcia looked around the room. The windows were all closed. Nothing was disturbed. She glowered at Gypsy.
“Gypsy, really? It is 2am. I have to be functioning in 4 hours. If you can’t be quiet, you’ll have to come in my room.” Marcia took hold of Gypsy’s collar and firmly led her away from her self-imposed post. Gypsy came grudgingly. “What is with you, girl? Usually you can’t wait to come sleep in my room. C’mon.” Marcia’s bedroom door closed.
Tia’s hopped out of the manuscript and peered for a few moments at the door. She took a few steps forward to scan for Gypsy. Satisfied that all was clear, she stomped her foot on the pages. Streams of pale light filled the desk as the 6 other fairies joined Tia.
Tia grabbed the red pen. “There is much work to do,” she said, pointing at the manuscript.
From the author: I’ve always been fascinated by the stories of Narnia and of Hobbits. Being able to communicate Christian principles through fantasy settings is what I’ve been playing with in my journaling for years. Last year I wrote my first book, Fierce Wholeness, a memoir. Not fiction. But I think I had to write the real stuff first before I could tackle the fiction.
Ephesians 2:10 tells me that God prepared good works for me to walk in. Writing is one of those works for me but I struggle to walk in it. But I’m walking. Be encouraged if there is a good work you know you need to walk in but struggle to do so. Keep walking.