As a child I created a Magic Kingdom where a family of fairies and elves lived. I visited them often under the guava tree. They were exquisite. There was a mother who looked at her unruly children with non-judgemental and kind eyes. She tended to her family’s needs with humour and endless patience. The benevolent father, always reached out to the young, staggering under the weight of love. There were fairy children with curls that glistened in the sunlight. An elf who threw his head back in laughter as he tripped on large green shoes, his tiny hand catching a red cap as it slipped off a head of perfect curls. A baby slept while others looked on with wonder at the perfection. The family slept on a mattress made of wild berries in vivid red, blue and pink, colours I had never seen before in nature but had read about. In unpredictable weather, trees delivered blankets to keep the family warm.
Their magic carpet was gold and took the family for a wild ride when they hopped aboard. They always beckoned me to join them. Their plane, was parked nearby. It had wings of lace. It had the strength to carry me too. I know this because, with child-like faith, I took the flight. It gave me a different view of what lay below. The presence of the fairy family was transient but they returned time and time again. This time to the garden where I now live.
It’s Easter morning. I have been in the presence of the waterbirds, rainbow lorikeets, magpie larks, willy wagtails and honeyeaters. I have disembarked from that magic carpet ride.
I have moved away from a world of religion to a different world where I practice my faith. I have gained more from this shift than all the years of church going. It has come about by observing. The child in me still believes in the magic of the day.
For those who celebrate, may your Easter be one of renewal, and may you find joy in the mystery of faith.
Until next time
a dawn bird