I remember hearing Periwinkle stories all my childhood.  My mom would tell us the story about the fairy who lived in a polka dotted mushroom (red and white, of course), under our big oak tree whenever we were sick, scared, couldn’t go to sleep or just wanted to hear one.  Mommy would sit with us on the bed, hugging both of us to her side, and tell us all about how Bluebird and Robin flew Periwinkle where she needed to go when she had a broken wing, and how she would crush up acorns from Squirrel to make acorn bread which she would give out to all her friends.  Mommy explained to us that Periwinkle always watched those two little girls who lived in the big white house up on the hill play on the swings, play in the play house and put on shows and circuses for the neighbors.  Periwinkle never came out of her mushroom to play with the little girls because she was afraid she would scare them away.  Emmy and I grew up hearing Mommy tell us these stories and like most children, we grew out of them, grew not to believe them anymore.  But I still remember how comforting they were on a stormy night or after I watched a scary movie and after Pop had his heart attack.

A few months ago, we were having some very bad weather: tornadoes, high wind, thunder and lighting, inches of rain.  The power was out, ans as Mommy and Emmy and I sat in the hallway away from all the windows, with the cats next to us, I realized that I needed a little comfort, so I asked Mommy to tell us a Periwinkle story.  She started telling me one like it had only been a few days since the last one, not missing a beat.

can't you just see Periwinkle living under here?

I love my memories of Periwinkle – how she grew up with us, comforted us and made us laugh.  I thank Mommy for providing me with the best memories a girl could ask for.  And I have to admit, I still get a little giddy when I see a mushroom growing under the Big Oak tree!

 

Advertisements