Old woman, young girl

The wind blew soft through the fields as she waited for the fairies.
She sat quietly on a stone, knees drawn up to her chin, just as she had so many years before.
She closed her eyes and smelled the sweet aroma of a summer storm brewing, a smile gracing her lined face.
And then, she heard them.
Ever so softly, the fairies approached and one by one they came into view.
They knew she was watching and recognized the girl in the old woman.
Each rose to blow soft feathery kisses upon her cheek and then, as quickly as they had come, they flew off.
The old woman stood laughing delightedly into the rain that had just started to fall.
She had never forgotten this place, this secret from her childhood.
She had carried memories throughout her long life and had retained an innocent peace into her old age.
Always there was magic in this woman, a mysterious love she shared with the world.
Her spirit knew of possibility, she believed in the good possessed by all things, all beings.
And always, she knew there would be a grassy field where a fairy can play under the shine of a silvery moon and where an old woman can be a girl laughing into a summer night's rain.