Final Draft of the Story

 

There was once a scarecrow
on a farm not far from here.

It was tall and wooly
and filled with straw.

The crows were not scared of it.

Some of the young fairies, however,
were uneasy with the scarecrow.

The young fairies ran to the older fairies.
“It is full of dead things!” they cried,
“Dried straw, cut from a once
green field of living grass!”

The older fairies took the young fairies
before the King and Queen.

“We don’t understand this creature,”
the young fairies explained,
“He stands alone in the field, cold, and lifeless!”

But the Queen bade them
attend the scarecrow,
and treat it as a friend.

“Let the scarecrow be loved,”
The Queen fairy said,
“even though it is not alive.”

The young fairies returned to the scarecrow.
They looked at its shoulder, where a small bird had now built a nest of twigs and stuffing.

“What shall we do?” They asked each other
“how can we be friends with this dark and silent one?”

The young fairies felt that they should include the scarecrow in their play, so…

They brought food, water, and decorations.
They hid seeds inside the straw-filled belly.
They slept among the tattered garments,
and beneath the sun bleached hat.

When the season turned cold,
they sheltered with the scarecrow,
and played winter games.

Come spring,
they sang to the scarecrow,
and told stories to it.

They chose to pretend
that the scarecrow had a heart,
and sought to warm it.

In this spring, as every spring,
the fairies became busy
with the work of renewal.
The young fairies
– now a season older –
bent their attention to the earth,
to cherish the growing things.

One day,
they remembered
the scarecrow!

They hurried to the side
of their tall and wooly friend.

And behold: a riot of living color
was standing in the field!

From the damp and musty
straw of the scarecrow…

…the seeds of wildflowers,
planted in fairy affection,
had bloomed!

The End