A small, strong woman with bright eyes and flowing blond hair tucked her tiny daughter into bed, pulling the Tinkerbell sheets Unknown User Normal Unknown User 2 9 2001-10-29T17:47:00Z 2001-10-29T17:47:00Z 2 739 4216 DellComputerCorporation 35 8 5177 9.3821 0

A small, strong woman with bright eyes and flowing blond hair tucked her tiny daughter into bed, pulling the Tinkerbell sheets up to her neck, and tucking them under her feet, so she wouldn't get cold. She hummed softly, in a way that she knew had a calming affect on her daughter, and that was usually all she could do to calm her down at bedtime.

"Story?" The baby girl whispered.

"Yes, story. But just one! Then you have to go to sleep."

The girl stuck her bottom lip out in a practiced way, it made her father crumble, but didn't work on her mother, who had once perfected pouting as well. Like mother, like daughter she thought, pleased that she could see herself in another human being. She stroked the child's hair. Not quite blond like her mother, or brown like her father, but a coffee color that looked perfect with the green eyes flecked with brown that held such emotion. "Story." Her daughter insisted.

"Yes, yes, I know. I'm trying to think of a story." Her inspiration for her songs came from late night bedtime stories, so her daughter always had to wait while she sorted out a story in her mind. When nothing came up, she resorted to opening her mouth and letting the sound come. Talk first, think later- isn't that what she did through high school? "Once upon a time…"

This surprised her daughter, the stories were usually more dramatic and never started with once upon a time.

"There was a young man who was different from everyone else on Earth. He had…He had the most wonderful deep brown eyes that carried around such pain. He didn't know it, but there was a little blond pixie who watched him."

"Like Tinkerbell?" The toddler asked, reverently, for she ate, drank and breathed Tinkerbell.

The woman laughed, "Well, he thought so. Her best friend used to call her a pixie and bought her short green dresses when she cut her hair short. Anyway, this young man was special. He had a secret that he shared only with his two best friends that were kinda like a brother and sister to him. He loved them, but just between you and me, I think he loved the little pixie more than either one of them. She loved him more than anything, maybe even more than her two best friends- a girl with long brown hair who mooned over her soulmate and a boy with brown hair who warmed the heart of an ice queen."

"A real live Ice Queen?"

She laughed, "It's an expression, honey. Anyway, this boy was special, he was from some place very, very far away and he never felt like he belonged in the small town where he grew up, because it held no joy for him. His whole entire life he dreamed of leaving, of going someplace else. And even though he had no memories of this other place he knew it was his home and he was certain that if he went to the other place he would understand how to love and he would be happy.

"The pixie girl loved him and feared that he would one day find a way to this other place he called home and leave her behind forever. Even though it was wrong she prayed he would never find a way to leave her, because if he did, she feared her heart would stop beating."

"Can your heart stop beating?" Her daughter wondered.

"No, but the pixie thought so. At that point, it seemed anything was possible. One day her worst fear became true- he had found a way home. He had discovered a way to leave, to go back to his home and he told her he was going to leave forever. Even though he loved her, he believed there was someone out there that could love him better than she could. She knew this wasn't true, but said nothing except good bye."

A tear ran down the baby's cheek, sensitive just like her mother.

"He was to leave forever in 3 minutes, he was to go and never ever look back. There would be no need to. But as the seconds were counted down he thought of the pixie. Of the way her hair moved when she twirled, the way her skin shone in the sun, the way she sang, the way she laughed…And he realized all the love he was looking for was in her. And she was his home. And as long as he had her, he didn't need to wish for a better place, for love. He had it. So he left and went to her and told her he loved her until he was hoarse."

The girl's eyes dropped down with pleasure and exhaustion, but she asked, "And was it what he dreamed of? Was he happy?"

There was a soft rapping at the door that broke through the peaceful reverie of the room. "I wanted to say good night," The man explained.

"Papa! Mommy was just finishing her story."

He sat down on the bed and said in his gruff voice, "Well, she can finish." His eyes sparkled.

"My question!" The girl insisted, "Answer it please, was he happy?"

"You'll have to ask him." Her mother said softly, glancing at the man next to her, "But if I had to guess…I would say ever dream he ever had became true, every prayer was answered and he was given more blessings than he could have hoped for. And even though life wasn't perfect—"

"Because no life is." The man interrupted.

"Right, even though there were hard times, he knew he made the right choice."

"The end?" The girl asked.

"No."