November 2012
The top of the Christmas tree reached to within inches of the ceiling. At the top of the tree the fairy stood proud and serene, as she had for the past five years; her bright tinsel tiara upon her head and her slightly bent magic wand in her hand. But five years of being stuffed casually into a black bin bag on twelfth night with the rest of the decorations was taking its physical toll on the fairy and she knew that she could not expect to occupy the top spot for very much longer.
She looked around the room remembering the first time she had graced the tree. The tree then had been small and rather sparse, it's roots firmly planted in a bright red bucket. She had been proudly unwrapped and gently place in the traditional position on the topmost spike. There had been a string of silvery beads and little homemade stars hanging from the branches. Underneath were three gaily wrapped gifts. She watched as the gifts were opened: a book for him, a tiny bottle of perfume for her and a small pink teddy bear.
The second year the tree was bigger, with the same decorations, but this time coloured fairy lights. There were more presents, but just as much thanking and hugging.
Each year the tree was larger, the decorations more lavish, the lights more flashing and the decorations more twinkling, the pile of gifts around the foot of the tree was larger each year.
Now, year five of her vigil, the tall artificial tree was covered with lovely glowing baubles; the pile of presents, each beautifully wrapped, was huge,
They finished adding their gifts and looked critically at the tree.
'You know, I think the fairy looked a bit worn out.'
'Yes, I thought that, so I've bought a new one; she is splendid she even plays Merry Christmas.'
To her horror the little fairy was roughly pulled off the tree and in her place a big gaudy graceless doll was perched on the topmost branch.
'Lovely.' The couple stood back to admire their efforts.
'Let's call the children in; they'll love it.'
Three children ran excitedly into the lounge, 'Oh!'
They gasped in awe.
First Milly began to cry; that started off the others.
'What's wrong?'
'It's the fairy. Where is she?'
'She's there at the top.'
'No, no, no, it's not our fairy, this one's horrible.'
'But this one cost a lot of money.'
'I don't care. The real one was one of the family; she 's always there. It won't be Christmas without her even if she is a bit old. It doesn't matter how much that one cost. It's not about the money. It's about . . . well it's about . . . well . . . we love our one; she was part of Christmas.
The couple looked at one another shamefaced. He took the new fairy off the tree and lifted up his daughter so she could return the rather battered little fairy to her rightful place.