I hated the fairy picture. Instead of feeling at peace, secure, happy I always had sleepless nights. Mom sleeping on the floor near my bed, comforting me when I cried out. No matter where she put the picture, in another room, even in the trash, it somehow once again appeared somewhere in my bedroom. Once it was inside my Nancy Drew book, another time under the mattress. The worst time was when it floated from the ceiling right onto my face! I screamed the house down even though I didn't at first know what it was.
The parish priest blessed my room. The picture was ceremoniously burnt in the living room fire. All was calm once again.Mom returned to sleeping with Dad, my sisters finally got a full nights sleep. I had pleasant dreams.
On the night before my 11th birthday the bedroom was filled with light. Three girls appeared holding out their arms. I could not stop myself from getting out of bed and joining them even though logic told me I ought to be scared.
In the morning mom found my room empty. I had gone forever.