Read by Matilda Longbottom

The light and fluffy snowflakes continued to fall onto the windshield as I pulled into the snow-covered parking lot of the medical center for my shift as the nursing supervisor. Outside, the world was white in my hometown of middle Tennessee-already four inches of fallen snow with more expected.

Since “swiping in” at 6:53 a.m., a potential, impending calamity loomed ahead of every hour of my shift. I knew from working past winter seasons with snow accumulation with certainty, finding staffing coverage for “inclement weather” call-ins would be at the top of my to-do list. Having minimal messages that read, “Nursing supervisor you have an outside call on 7793,” was my fervent prayer.

As I strolled past several large windows lining the sixth-floor corridor, I took a moment to stop and gaze at the Winter wonderland stretching across the city. The view from the window was tremendous, awe-inspiring, and breathtaking. From my vantage point, I see very little traffic on the roads, as the now large flakes of heavy snow continued to fall. There truly was beauty in Winter. Beep, beep, beep was emitted from my page, as I reflected on how quickly the morning passed. Routine office tasks and rounding to each unit were completed. It was now lunchtime, and I was headed to the neuro-stepdown unit where I had been invited to eat lunch and participate in the festivities of a baby shower.

Gales of laughter echoed as I approached the break-room door. Upon entering, several staff members were uncovering dishes of food, as the next joke was told. “What did the snowman and his wife put over the baby’s crib?” After several incorrect answers were blurted out, followed by an awkward silence, the charismatic coordinator says in a jovial tone, “A snowmobile!” A loud round of laughter erupts again.

As I begin to fill my plate, I hear beep, beep, beep from my pager, with a message “Nursing supervisor you have an outside call on 7793.” As I start to take a bite, the coordinator, -with a quizzical look, exclaims, “How many call-ins have you had already?” As I swallow a potato chip thick with dip, I say, “Six, but this is only the start. With each inch of snowfall there will be more.”

In a soft, motherly voice Gladys says, “Well, you’ll be busy enough as it gets closer to the next shift’s arrival. Enjoy your lunch break. I was just getting ready to share the story about the fanciful and enchanted fairy garden Lee and I created this week in preparation for our six grandchildren who are visiting at the end of the month.” Gladys crunches on a celery stick before beginning, “We can’t wait to open the French doors into the sunroom. We’ve brought the outdoors inside so the kids could play in the dirt in creative and imaginative ways, turning their play area into a world filled with educational opportunities, wonder, awe, and fun!”

Just as Gladys is about to continue her story, she is called away, but not before saying to me, “Don’t leave yet. I want to tell you a few more things about the indoor garden.” I welcomed the break in conversation because I had two calls on hold with the hospital operator. I was hanging up the phone as Gladys opened the door stating, “That blood draw wasn’t so difficult. Let’s continue lunch!”

Being 20 pounds on the wrong side of healthy, I wasn’t going to turn down a second helping of delicious, homemade (non-cafeteria) food. Gladys begins talking as she adds hot queso dip to her tortilla chips. “Because of ample sunlight, we have added Winter growing herbs. Each grandchild (Sarah, Timothy, Elijah, Vanessa, Elizabeth, Noah) will have one of these herbs planted in their individualized sections of the hexagon planter Lee built. They will water and care for them when they are here. Something fun we have never done before – going to let the kids use their herbs in recipes we will cook together for the family each night. Furthermore, Lee is excited to share what the plants symbolize, using scripture verses for that descriptive word. Cilantro (prosperity), parsley (joy), sage (wisdom), dill (vitality), oregano (love), and thyme (courage). Each child knows which section belongs to them based on a garden-friendly critter and color assigned to them (frog/green, snail/purple, worm/orange, bee/yellow, ladybug/red, butterfly/blue). Lee carved the critter images out of cedar and attached them to the backs of the chairs, so the sunroom smells awesome!”

Before Gladys could begin her next thought, I came forward in my chair and interjected the question, “Does each child have a whimsical and enchanted fairy house in their individual vertex?” Interrupted by a call from security making me aware of I-40 East near Monterey closing due to accidents, as well as power outages in parts of the county, I had a STAT beep that followed from the on-call orthopedic surgeon.

“Back to your question about individual fairy houses. No, Lee found on our property a weathered tree stump with unusual roots that he placed in the center of the room filling, hexagonal shaped planter. It truly is an amazing piece of art. There is a gravel path from each vertex section that leads to a 4-inch by 4-inch space in the tree stump. Lee put a color-coordinated round door that will open for each grandchild. Inside this small space, each child can leave a tooth for the tooth fairy, or write notes with wishes for the birthday fairy. Garden fairies are clever at granting wishes (Gladys winks), don’t you know? The hexagon is enclosed like a fairy ring with shiny rocks and tiny toadstools. We have miniature knick-knacks, trinkets of quartz, bridges that cross over water, ponds, wishing wells, swings, as well as lots of farm and woodland animals for them to interactively play with their fairy. In the morning, the children will gather around my reading chair to hear those timeless treasured fairytales. In the Spring, we will plant different perennials, but since it is wintertime, we have put down an inch of fake snow in all six areas with a variety of live winterberry, cyclamen, and dwarf cypress,” Gladys exclaimed with an animated look.

I shake my head in disbelief. “What an amazing, year-round educationally fun project for all! Thank you for extending a luncheon invitation to me. I have enjoyed it.” Grabbing a peppermint ball, I stroll to the nearest elevator to tackle my end-of-shift responsibilities.

At 7:45 p.m., I am “swiped out” and wiped out! After an especially long day, I was glad to finally leave it behind me as I pull into my driveway. High snowdrifts along the perimeter of my home, quickly summoned me inside to the cozy warmth. Yawning as I wilt with exhaustion in my recliner, my eyes closed quickly as a magical, sweet-smelling powder dusts over me. As I begin to float outside myself, I grasp a twinkling star in a brightly lit sky. A beautiful and kind “Queen of the Fairies” with rosebud lips and turquoise eyes grasps my free hand, smiles, and says,” Once upon a time, there were six wee folk fairies in the Rabnud’s enchanted garden. Let’s meet them one by one. Your dream tonight will erase the stresses of the day and be replaced with an unforgettable wintertime adventure filled with fun.”

Lightweight and airless, we twirl and spin around the garden, stopping first at the blue door. Ducking behind a parsley plant and toy horse, Pippy hurls a snowball past me, as a shy fairy named Adelina meekly interjects, “We are going to enjoy thrills before your pixie dust wears off. Take these twigs. We are going skiing. Follow me!”

Dodging around dwarf cypress in freestyle fashion, we jump, flip, and spin our way down to a clearing. A third fairy named Tiny frolics over, encouraging us to all make a snowman. Once completed, we all hold hands and dance around it with laughter. When Yanitza hears all the commotion, she emerges from behind the red door. Not to be outdone by the other fairies, she grabs the Queen Fairy’s free hand as we all travel back to the top of the hill to enjoy sledding.

Tree bark becomes our sled as we glide down the back side of the tree stump, stopping in front of one of the ponds. Fairy Uira awaits near the water’s edge. “Time to ice skate,” she says with excitement. With a puzzled look, I reply, “What will we use for skates?” She hands me acorn husks, as she laughs, “These, silly.”

The last fairy emerges from the orange door. With an angelic voice she says, “My name is Tinka It means heavenly, so we are going to end your Winter fairytale making snow angels.” Arms and legs moving back and forth in the snow, I hear what sounds like beep, beep, beep in the distance. Tinka whispers quietly, “We must bid farewell. Our time has come to an end.” With the soundlessness that snow brings, I was fast asleep. ❖

About the Author: Pamela Tisher is a registered nurse who finds solace in writing, especially during the Winter months when she can’t be outdoors tending to her vegetable and flower gardens. She weaves tales that transport readers into whimsical worlds, drawing inspiration from her experiences in healthcare and her love for nature.