There was a little fairy. Well, she was not so little, she was almost a big fairy. A few more thousands of years, that’s it, then she would be a big fairy.

But now, she, Kyra, was still a small fairy, with little fairy eyes, little fairy nose, little fairy mouth, and of course, little fairy wings that flapped really fast!

Fairy Kyra lived on a little cloud that floated to the west of the moon, to the north of earth, to the west of Jupiter, to the…well, you got the idea. It floated.

It floated here and there. It visited the eight planets, it dropped by the shooting star, it zipped past an asteroid, it raced the moving galaxies…it just floated!

Kyra loved it on her little cloud. Once in a while, she would go to the really big cloud, and met all the other fairies there. Once, every ten thousand years. Maybe. She lost count.

Now, Kyra, of course, like other little fairies, had a very, very important task.

What is it, you may ask?

Dreams!

Kyra’s task was to make sure all the children on the beautiful blue earth had beautiful dreams.

Dreams about cookies and sugarfloss and strawberry cream.

Dreams about ponies and pandas and koalas.

Dreams about good friends and great parties.

Dreams about birthdays and presents and waterballoons.

Dreams about books and magic and wonderland.

Kyra had a really thick book with her notes on who got what dream tonight, so she would not accidentally give the same dreams two days in a row to the same kid! That would be boring, now, wouldn’t it? There were so many nice dreams to give!

But these past few days, Kyra was sad. She just sat on her little cloud with her mouth folded in a grim line across her chubby face.

She was sad, and, bored.

Her job was too easy! She would never, ever, be remembered in the Great Hall of the Fairies, if all she ever did was to give good dreams to children!

Too easy and too boring! she thought as she pouted and sighed and whined.

She sat and sat, and good dreams were not given to any child that night.

Sad night for all the children.

Until Hubert came. Yes, Hubert, Kyra’s fairy grandfather.

He was old. Really old, with long white beard, and white moustache, green eyes, and really long fairy ears.

“Kyra!” he shouted as he jumped to Kyra’s cloud and sat next to the sad little fairy.

Kyra’s eyes lighted up and she was happy to see Grandpa Hubert.

“Why don’t you give good dreams tonight to all the children?” Grandpa asked.

Kyra sighed and with a shaky voice told her wise grandpa all her troubles.

Grandpa Hubert laughed.

“Kyra, you actually, have a very important job! It may seem simple, but you know, without you, the children have to go through the night in a dreamless sleep!”

“What’s wrong with that?” Kyra didn’t understand.

“They have no fuel, Kyra. The beautiful dreams give them fuel, to grow, to be adults who will always remember the goodness of their childhood!”

“Oh…you mean, the good dreams help them grow?”

Grandpa Hubert nodded hard and smiled.

“Yes! They dream, and they smile, and they grow. Adults…don’t dream as much as children. The nice, really nice dreams, little Kyra, only children have those…”

“Why?” Kyra was confused.

“Adults have too many things in their lives, Kyra. Sometimes, a lot of times, they forget even how to dream.”

Kyra sighed.

“Children dream. Sometimes bad dreams happen. But the good dreams are the ones that help them remember the warmth of their blankets, of good people, and good days…”

“Why they have to remember those, Grandpa?”

Grandpa Hubert was quiet for a bit, then he said, “When they become adults, and life becomes hard, it helps them to be stronger when they can remember the good dreams, the good ol’ days, Kyra…”

Kyra thought and thought for a while.

Then she lighted up in a big smile.

“I will do my task, Grandpa! To give good dreams!” she shouted as she flew away, leaving a proud Grandpa Hubert behind.

Yes, dreams. Good dreams for children.

Hopefully they will always remember the good dreams even in days when it is hard to remember…