Throwback: My Pet Fairy
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Welcome to Stories Podcast. I'm your host, Amanda Weldon. Today's story is a throwback episode. Tune in to hear one of our classic stories from the archive that you might have missed the first time around.

We have Stories Podcast merch available at storiespodcast.com slash shop. We're also on Cameo for all of your personalized video message needs, and don't forget to follow us on Instagram at storiespodcast. If you send us a drawing of your favorite scene or character, we'll share it on our feed. Now here's a word from our sponsors. Thanks! Enjoy the episode. My Pet Fairy Once upon a time, a young girl was out playing in the forest.

Well, it looked like playing, but the girl would tell you it was actually very serious business. Her name was Nellie, and to tell you the truth, she was setting fairy traps. Now, that might not sound that serious to you, but her woods were old woods. A church of low-limbed pews and towering pine steeples. It was the kind of place that let magical things feel serious, if only just a little.

So there Nellie was, on her hands and knees in the dirt, singing her fairy trap song. It was kind as far as traps went, more of a fairy bed, really. They'd come, fall asleep, and then Nellie could catch them napping. At least, that was the plan. Of twigs or say.

Big enough to hold your hand. Fill it full of something soft. Something sweet for winds to walk. Flowers three to make the... She did this most days. And even though she knew it was fantastically, incredibly, impossibly unlikely she'd ever catch a fairy, she wasn't all that surprised when she finally did.

It was there one morning, curled up, sleeping on the bed Nellie had laid. She crept up, careful not to disturb it. Closer, she could see the fairy was a girl. She was wearing a dress of flower petals, her peaceful face resting on a bed of moss. A fairy, Nellie whispered to herself. A girl fairy.

Every day for years, Nellie had carried with her an old glass jar with holes in the lid to allow for air. She called it her fairy catcher, and it had been waiting for the day there'd be a fairy to scoop inside. Today was finally that day. Easy as she could, like the fairy was a soap bubble that might pop, Nellie slid the fairy into the jar and screwed on the lid.

I did it, she cried, holding the jar aloft. The sunlight streamed through and the little fairy inside sat up, wiping the sleep from her eyes. I need to go and show my dad. She ran home, clutching the fairy bottle tight. When she got home, her father was sitting at his desk, going over some papers. Dad, I caught a fairy. Can you see? Do you see it? He turned, smiling. Busy as he was, he always made time for her discoveries.

Hmm, what do we have here? He said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. A fairy in a bottle. This is an old piece of magic you have here. It's a shame to see it bottled up. You should let her free. Just let her go? Nellie was aghast. Her father nodded.

"'Well, fairies are like humans, you see. They don't do well in captivity. They're like the best of us. They yearn to be free, to see what's around the next bend in the forest.' "'I like her close,' said Nellie, smiling at the fairy as she flitted about the jar. Her father looked at her for a long moment. "'Well, all right, my mighty fairy-catcher,' he said. "'I've said my piece. It's up to you what to do now.'

Nellie went back to her room and set the fairy on the table next to her bed. She watched it as it curled into a little ball and yawned widely. She watched it until her eyes grew heavier and heavier and she couldn't help but fall asleep. The next morning, she woke up excited to see her fairy again. She sprang from bed and peered into the jar. Oh no, she said. Something's wrong.

The fairy was sitting sadly in the center of her jar. Her bright colors and gossamer wings had lost a lot of their luster. The flower-bright hues were now drab and dusty. Nellie tapped on the glass, trying to get the fairy to fly or dance, but it just sat there like a lump. She brought it to her father, who was sitting at the table reading, steaming mug of coffee in hand. "'The fairy isn't bright anymore! She isn't flying!'

He set down his mug, bending to peer into the jar. Well, why do you think that is? I think she doesn't appreciate the nice jar she's in, her father laughed. Oh, is that so? I'm feeling... Unappreciated, undervalued, and betrayed. Truly unacknowledged, overworked, and underpaid. No one's listening to the words coming off my tongue. And if I was, then I'd always be unsung. After all,

Why won't she appreciate me? Her father, used to Nellie's frequent bouts of song, just laughed again. You know what I think? What? I think she just wants to be free. How could she like the walls of glass when she's used to leaves and sprigs of grass? Father wasn't above the occasional rhyme himself. Well, I'm not letting her go, but I can at least try to make her happier.

True to her word, Nellie spent the day preparing the best fairy cage she could. She started with an old fishbowl from the attic. Inside, she laid grass and flowers and pebbles and even a little hollow made of bark. It was beautiful, and when she moved the sulking fairy from the jar to the bowl, she was certain she had fixed the problem. It was a very nice bowl, after all.

After she had the fairy tucked into the bark hollow, Nellie tied on a thick cloth cover and set the bowl next to her bed. That night, she fell asleep watching her fairy cautiously explore her new home. The next morning, she once more sprung from bed. Peering into the fairy bowl, she felt her heart sink.

The fairy was sitting in the bark hollow, hugging a buttercup in her arms. Her color was even worse today. She looked like she had been dusted with ash, the faded colors of her dress and wings barely showing through. Nellie ran to her father, grabbed him by the hand, and dragged him into her room to look. Well, you know what I'm going to say, he said.

I decorated her cage. It's a big bowl, way bigger than the jar. And look, I added some grass and flowers and even a little bark house. She stomped her foot. I'm still feeling unappreciated, undervalued, and betrayed. Truly unacknowledged, overworked, and underpaid. No one's listening to the words coming off my tongue. And if I was, after all the work I've done, why won't she appreciate me?

Father shook his head, a small smile on his lips. I need you to do me a favor tonight, Nellie. What? She said, still sulking.

Tonight, when you lay down, I want you to imagine what it would be like to live in a room where every wall's a window and you never have a second of privacy. Where there's no going outside to play, there's no visiting friends, there's no going to grandma's, there's not even a breeze. Just the same little room. You need to do that for me, promise? Yes, Nellie said, but she didn't really mean it.

She spent that day collecting the prettiest flowers, the shiniest stones, and the juiciest berries and laid them inside the bowl all around the fairy. Dad's wrong. She just needs a nicer cage, she said to herself. If this doesn't make her happy, nothing will.

When she laid down to sleep that night, she found she couldn't help but think of what her father had said. She imagined living in a tiny room, glass walls, no breeze, no cookies at Nana's. Her sleep was restless that night, full of claustrophobic dreams and tossing and turning. It seemed to go on forever, and she woke up just as tired as she was when she had laid down. Of course, she went to the ferry first thing.

She was sure that her extra decorations would make a difference. Unfortunately, the fairy looked worse than ever. She was ashy all over, not a hint of color about her. She laid still on the floor of the bowl. Only her little chest was moving and that was rising and falling rapidly. It looked like she was struggling to breathe.

Oh, no! cried Nellie. She worried about what she had done. She'd wanted to keep the fairy, her own personal bit of wild magic. She'd wanted it so badly, so badly that she hadn't let herself see what it was doing to the little creature. I'm gonna make you better, she said to the fairy, suddenly determined. Her dreams of being trapped weighed heavy on her, and she wished she had listened to her father from the start.

Carefully, she lifted the fairy's bowl and brought it outside. Fast as her little legs would carry her, she ran to her woods. Her old woods. Her magic woods. She found the spot where she had first caught the fairy and tore the cloth lid free of the bowl.

Come on, you're home. Go free. Fly away, she said. Inside the bowl, the fairy laid still, her breathing wild. The color was gone from her now. She was all ashy grays and blacks, her wings frail and brittle. No, look, you're outside. Nellie reached in and gently lifted the fairy. She was so light, her breathing so fluttery it was like holding a butterfly.

She laid the fairy down gently on a patch of moss. Still, she didn't seem to get any better. Nellie panicked. What could she do? What did fairies like? Wait, she knew what fairies liked. She began to build, her hands as shaky as her little voice, loud in the quiet forest. Love twigs or sand, big enough to hold your hand.

As she sang, the wind began to blow. She gathered twigs, laying them in a circle around the fairy. A swirl of flower petals whipped by, curling up and then bursting like a firework. Fill it full of something soft, something sweet for winds to walk.

She tore up handfuls of grass and laid them under the fairy. Something sweet. There. Blackberries on the ground. Then... Color! Color began to bloom in the fairy's skin. The grays gave way to muted leaf greens and flower pinks and nut browns. Her eyelids fluttered. Her wings flapped once, soft as blinking. First three to make the bed. Come and lay your head.

She plucked three dandelions, fat and yellow. She laid them in a row, and then, gentle as a mother's kiss, she rolled the fairy onto them. For a long moment, nothing happened. Then, the fairy gasped. She drew in a deep breath, and the color surged through her. She flashed, sudden and bright like the first rays of the sun. Her eyes snapped open. Her wings buzzed to life. She drifted into the air like a dandelion puff on the wind.

Yes, cried Nellie. You're free! I fly, little fairy! She hollered and cheered until the fairy disappeared into the forest, and then she cheered some more. That night, the fishbowl went back to the attic, and she filled her fairy-catching jar with old coins and buttons. She wouldn't need it anymore. Her fairy-catching days were over.

Still, on golden afternoons when she wanted an excuse to be outside, Nellie would go out and set up the fairy beds. Not because she wanted to take one home. She just thought they deserved a comfy place to sleep. The End

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