Finn the Fairy - a story about ambition

I was asked to visit the P3's at Niddrie Mill Primary School in Edinburgh to chat to them about ambition and achieving your dream. A tricky subject to discuss with 7 year olds! I thought it might make it easier to explain what ambition meant if I wrote them a little story. This is what I came up with. They absolutely loved it! Thank you P3 and Miss Allan for a lovely visit. Niddrie Mill will always have a special place in my heart x

"This is a story about Finn the fairy. Now, you might imagine that being a fairy meant that Finn had long, golden hair and wore pretty candy floss dresses. But Finn was no ordinary fairy. Finn liked to wear trousers and t-shirts. They were much more comfortable and allowed her to fly around without worrying about getting a draught up her skirt. She had short cropped hair the colour of rubies which she liked to tuck behind her ears.

Sometimes the other fairies laughed at Finn because she was different but Finn didn’t mind because she had something special. She had a little fire in her soul that made her happy to get out of bed every morning and put a spring in every step. This little fire was called ambition.

Finn wanted to be the best tooth fairy in the whole wide world. Her biggest dream was to one day collect enough pearly white teeth to make the most incredible, dazzling, spectacular necklace ever to be seen. She would imagine this every moment of every day, and at night, as she slept on her spider silk pillow she would dream that Queen Eugene - the big boss fairy - was congratulating her for being the best tooth collector in the whole of Fairyland.

One morning Finn received a letter inviting her for a job interview at Tooth Fairy Headquarters.

“Mum! Mum!” she squealed as she ran through to the kitchen, “I’ve got an interview for the position of senior tooth fairy”

Finn’s mum smiled from ear to ear.

“I’m not in the least bit surprised” she said “I know you can do anything you like if you put your mind to it”

Finn stared down at the letter. She couldn’t stop smiling!

“I need to get ready” she said, flapping her feathery wings “the interview is in two hours. I think I’ll wear my best purple trousers and my fancy green top and I’ve got those little pixie boots I keep for special occasions”

“And I’ll do your hair the way you like it” added her Mum.

Finn flattened her short red hair and looked up at her mum with a worried expression.

“Do you think they’ll like me Mum?” she asked.

Finn’s mum’s eyes twinkled.

“Just you be yourself and do your best and I’m sure they will love you”

“But I’m not like all the other fairies” sighed Finn “I never wear skirts and I hate the colour pink!”

“But you’re hard working and very determined” her mum replied, “I can’t think of anyone who would be better for this job than you”

Finn’s mum had always believed in her and her dream. It gave Finn a warm, fuzzy feeling inside and made her want to achieve her ambition even more.

**~~**

Finn was so nervous when she arrived at Fairy Headquarters later that morning. She hoped Queen Eugene would believe in her too. She took a deep breath, threw back her shoulders, shook her wings and fluttered into the interview room.

There were lots of other fairies waiting to be interviewed. They whispered and giggled when they saw Finn. Finn knew they were laughing at her clothes and it hurt her feelings. But she tried to ignore them as she made her way towards an empty chair. She sat between a boy fairy and a pretty girl fairy with long hair as white as snow.

“Hello” smiled the boy “my name is Pip and this is Immelda”

Immelda looked Finn up and down and screwed up her face.

“I’m so nervous” whispered Finn, “for as long as I can remember I’ve wanted to be the best tooth fairy that ever lived and now I’ve got a chance to prove what I can do”

“You can’t be a tooth fairy” Immelda sneered “you’re not even wearing a dress!”

“Neither am I!” laughed Pip.

“That’s different” snapped Immelda, “you’re a boy”

“I don’t much like dresses” shrugged Finn.

Immelda rolled her eyes.

“Everyone knows that all girl fairies wear dresses!” she said.

Finn sighed with frustration.

“Well, maybe it’s time that all changed” she said. “You see, I know I’m really good at what I do and I don’t see why that should change just because I don’t like glittery tutus and frilly pink dresses”

At that moment the door swung open and Queen Eugene fluttered into the room. She was so beautiful everyone gasped. Finn couldn’t believe she was in the same room as the big boss fairy. Queen Eugene sat down at her desk and put on a pair of glasses. She stared down at a pile of papers and then looked around the room.

“The first two fairies to be interviewed are Finn and Immelda!” she announced.

“Good luck” whispered Pip.

Finn took a deep breath as she watched Immelda flutter in graceful loops towards Queen Eugene’s desk.

“I think I’ll need it” she muttered as she followed.

***~~**

Queen Eugene looked over the top of her glasses at Finn as she settled into the chair opposite.

“I would like you to tell me why you want this job” she said.

Finn smiled.

“This is the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do” she began “collecting teeth makes me happy and I’m very good at it. I work hard and I won’t give up until I’ve done the very best I can do to be the very best I can be”

Queen Eugene nodded and smiled.

“But she doesn’t even wear skirts” snapped Immelda “and she won’t wear anything pink!”

Queen Eugene gave Immelda a disapproving look before turning back to Finn.

“Don’t you have…anything pink?” she asked.

Finn shook her head.

“I don’t like pink” she said softly.

Queen Eugene eyed her thoughtfully.

“I tell you what” she said “let’s see which one of you can collect the most teeth in one night. Then we’ll know who is best for the job. Collect a rucksack from reception and I’ll see you back here tomorrow morning – 8 o’clock sharp”

***~~***

That night was a blur to Finn. All she knew was that her little green wings flapped harder than they had ever done before. She flew from house to house collecting teeth from underneath pillows and leaving a coin in their place. She had never been so determined to win a race in all her life! Before she knew it her little rucksack was filled to the brim with shiny white baby teeth.

“I’m sure I’ve got enough to make that beautiful necklace” she thought with a smile.

When Finn got back to Fairy Headquarters she was absolutely exhausted. She knew even if she didn’t win she had done the very best job she could do. There was nothing more she could have done.

“There” she panted and tossed the bag onto the table “I’ve done my best. I’ve worked harder than I’ve ever worked in my life”

Queen Eugene pulled open the zip on Immelda’s rucksack first. She turned it upside down and an avalanche of pearly teeth tumbled to the floor like little white stones.

“Well done Immelda!” she said as she clapped her hands together with delight.

Immelda smiled proudly and flapped her glittery wings.

Finn’s stomach flipped with nerves.

“Mmm, this would take some beating” said Queen Eugene preparing Finn for the worst.

She tried to lift Finn’s rucksack but groaned under the weight of it. Her face turned pink with the effort of tipping the bag over.

“My, oh my” she puffed, “what have you got in here? Rocks!?”

Finn’s heart soared with hope. Perhaps she could still win? This meant so much to her.

Hundreds of little shiny teeth poured out of Finn’s rucksack and spilled across the floor. Queen Eugene gasped.

“I think it’s fair to say this is the most teeth I’ve ever seen in my whole time as boss fairy! We’re going to be able to make at least twenty fancy necklaces with these. I’m very impressed Finn and I would like to offer you the job”

Finn’s face broke into a huge smile.

“Thank you” she said “I won’t let you down”

Finn had never felt so happy. This was the moment she had dreamed about all her life and it felt even better than she had imagined! All her hard work and dedication had finally paid off.

As you might imagine Finn’s Mum was over the moon when she heard the good news.

“I’m very proud of you” she said “you knew what you wanted and you didn’t give up until you had it. I wonder what you will do now that you have achieved your dream?”

Finn smiled a mischievous smile.

“Well that’s simple” she said “now I’m going to work my little pixie boots off and one day I will be the big boss Fairy!”

Finn’s Mum laughed.

“Now that’s what I call ambition” she said"

© Hazel Allan 2011

First blog post of 2011

It has been a difficult and stressful month. Junior was off school for the first two weeks in December due to the snowy weather. For a while it seemed like we would never see greenery again. I couldn't remember what the world looked like underneath the thick blanket of white. Being trapped in the house with a hyper seven year old was challenging.. to say the least. There are only so many board games you can play, fairy cakes you can bake, Lego models you can build and snowmen you can build. My Christmas decorations have never been up so early!

At long last school re-opened but three days into being back Junior took ill and had to spend a few days under a blanket on the settee. Thank goodness for Calpol and CBBC. Predictably, I then took his bug and spent Christmas in bed/hospital/my folks. Not the best Christmas on record it has to be said.

The M&S Honey Roast Parsnips and Nut Roast are still tucked away in the freezer for a time when we're completely back on our feet and can enjoy them. However, I'm not sure when that will be. This virus has really knocked me for six. On a good day I just feel hungover and on a bad day I feel like every cell in my body has been poisoned. Sometimes the thirteen steps to the toilet feels like Mount Everest.

Poor Dizzy Rascal, our hamster died on the 28th December. She was nearly two years old and so it was not a shock. She seemed bright enough but when I went to clean her cage I noticed (to my horror) that she had doubled in size. I was still so ill when I had to stagger over to the vets in my pyjamas through freezing sleet and wind. I kept feeling like I was going to pass out. It was a particularly emotional experience because it was three years to the day that I had to say goodbye to my faithful puss Bonnie, who died at the ripe old age of 17.

I whispered my tearful farewells to wee Dizzy in the waiting room and kissed her whiskery nose for the last time. I chose for the vet to take her away and do the kindest thing for her. He told me she was so swollen because of a fluid build up, most likely as a result of kidney failure. It was very difficult to say goodbye when she was still so alert and behaving normally. The lovely vet reassured me that I was doing the right thing and it was only a matter of time before she took a stroke or started to suffer. At least I can take comfort from knowing she wasn't in pain. I was kind of glad for the lashing rain on my walk home with the empty pet carrier since no-one would see my tears.

It's times like that - when you're desperately ill and emotionally weak - when you wish there was someone around who could make the impossible choices and pick up all the pieces. I get so tired of being the one who has to make all the difficult decisions and provide all the explanations. Sometimes I yearn for someone to hold me up emotionally and take the choices out of my hands. It was heart wrenching breaking the news to Junior that Dizzy had gone and wouldn't be coming back although he took it well and showed remarkable maturity and sensitivity. It was a comfort to take a bag of Dizzy's unused bedding, food and toys to the SSPCA animal shelter where they would be put to good use.

Poor wee thing. I broke my heart when I came home from the vets and started to clear away her cage. She had made this cute little pile of food, all neatly organised in the corner of her bed. I'm guessing she thought it would be warmer to have breakfast in bed. I know this will sound weird but I really miss her company.

On a brighter note we have a new member of the family. Baby. No, not a real baby! A furry one. Baby the cat arrived in the middle of December. I had some niggling concerns that he might not hit it off with Junior but I needn't have worried. Baby follows him around like a little lamb and it's sweet to see my rowdy boy showing the softer side to his nature. Check out what he has to say about life at his own blog.

Apart from a couple of 'weeing' incidents Baby appears to be settling into his new home. I contacted Sarah at Sunny Harbour (the shelter where we got Baby from) and she has advised me to keep things simple for a few days to reduce Baby's stress levels. I've to limit the space he has and in turn the inappropriate urination should mend itself. Fingers crossed.

I hate to think of my wee cat feeling stressed. Sarah has reassured me that his behaviour is normal, especially considering the stressful environment he came from before finding himself at Sunny Harbour. I wish I could make him understand that nobody is ever going to hurt him again. I guess even cats find it difficult to let go of the past.

Right, I'm away to scrape the snow off my car and give the engine a run. Need to make sure I can get Junior to school.

X

Last blog post of the year

Being a single mother is not the walk in the park that Jeremy Kyle or the Tory government would have you believe it is. Not if it’s done properly. Over the last couple of days I have nursed a very poorly boy whilst hardly being able to lift my own head off the pillow. In the early hours of this morning as I lay in bed with a soaring temperature and a hacking cough I had the opportunity to reflect on what the last 5 years of lone parenthood has meant for me. It has been a full time job… and the rest. I have been a mum and a dad, a teacher, a doctor, a social worker, a psychologist, good cop/bad cop, chauffeur, clown, cleaner, cook. I’ve been Santa Claus, the tooth fairy and the Easter Bunny. I have been disciplinarian and a warm shoulder to cry on, sometimes at the same time.

And all done on next to no salary, no holidays or sick days. Oh, what I would have given for a sick day yesterday.

I have worked tirelessly and on my own to raise my happy, healthy, well rounded and intelligent little boy. There have been moments where I have gone to bed at night and cried with the pressure and weight of responsibility that being a lone parent can bring. But there have also been moments of sheer giddy happiness. And on the whole I am pleased with the way I have done things and proud of how my little boy has turned out.

Single mothers (and let’s face facts it always seems to be mothers) get such bad press. I’ve never fully understood why. After all, being a parent is the hardest job in the world. Being a single parent is doubly difficult. Negative stereotypes would have you believe that we are the scourge of society, a prime cause of social breakdown, the sole responsibility for ‘Broken Britain’. I would urge the people who believe this to spend a week in the shoes of a single parent. Have they ever wondered why some people find themselves in the challenging and often unwanted position of bringing up a child on their own? It is unfair to tar everyone with the same brush. I am profoundly aware that there are single parents who abuse the system. Sadly it is this small percentage that politicians and certain sections of the press tend to focus on, forgetting that the majority of us are simply trying to get by and do the very best we can. Sometimes bringing up a child in the face of such hostility and misunderstanding can be intolerable.

So as we draw to the end of another year I would like to reflect upon what has brought me to this point in my life. To take stock of where I am and where I would like to be this time next year. And above all to extend my warmest wishes to parents everywhere. Especially single parents since this time of year brings with it its own unique challenges.

It can be a tough old life sometimes but there is nothing I would have done differently. I hope that Junior and I feel much better tomorrow so that we can fully enjoy the magic of Christmas morning together. For it is moments like those that make all the hard work worthwhile and remind me why I am the luckiest Mummy in the world.

Happy Christmas x

Paws for Thought

"Time spent with cats is never wasted”

Sigmund Freud

My faith in human beings has been restored. It doesn’t take much. In this world of horror where we hear so much about war and cruelty there are stories that would warm the cockles of the coldest heart. My story is about the Sunny Harbour Cat and Kitten Rescue.

Anyone who knows me will tell you that I absolutely love cats. It was no coincidence that when I was writing my first novel "Bree McCready and the Half Heart Locket" I wrote the character Agora Burton, a whacky old lady who shares her life with lots of cats and clocks. It wasn’t difficult for me to conjure her up. In fact I reckon she’s me in around 50 years time.

Here’s an extract from the chapter entitled "Cats and Clocks" –

"At the end of the gloomy hallway Bree, Sandy and Honey came to a little room filled with cats and clocks, where the old lady poked at a roaring fire, a knobbly hand on her hip to support her decrepit body. A glow surrounded her like a magic circle. Burning logs spat and crackled in protest at being prodded, forcing her to dodge out of the way of floating embers.The room was just like the old woman – small, old-fashioned and eccentric. The walls were covered in paintings of strange landscapes and sepia photographs of rigid people. And there were cats everywhere. They sat on the window sills; were curled up on chairs, and stretched out on the mantelpiece, slowly edging the ornaments forward with their swishing tails until they wobbled precariously at the edge. Bree cleared her throat loudly and the old woman immediately straightened her withering body and smiled across at their gawping faces.
‘Aren’t cats wonderful?’ she smiled. ‘Mysterious, independent and unfathomable.’
Bree nodded but Sandy was unconvinced, the only cat he had ever liked was Bustopher. He looked down at his feet to see that a rather portly, tortoiseshell furball had planted itself beside him and was now licking its paw intently. The cat’s talons were spread out fully to allow a long, sandpaper tongue to lick thoroughly in between each toe. Suddenly sensing Sandy’s stare, the cat promptly stopped licking and glared up at him. Intimidated, he broke eye contact and edged away.
‘The thing I love most about cats,’ continued the old woman, ‘is that they say very little, but they think a great deal.’
She placed the poker against the fireplace and wiped the ash from her hands.
‘There is many a human being who could learn some precious lessons from our feline friends"

When my Mum and I arrived at Sunny Harbour we were welcomed by Paul - the lovely man who runs the shelter with his wife Sarah - and a whole army of gorgeous pussies all vying for our attention. I didn’t know which one to stroke first! Paul took us into a back room and introduced us to some real beauties – Ollie, a sweet boy with a penchant for nibbling fingers (in a nice way!), Daisy, a lovely wee lady who was desperate to get some time away from her three adorable - but demanding - kittens and Simba, a feisty young lad with eyes like saucers filled with mischief! Mum took an instant shine to Daisy who cuddled into her duffle coat like a newborn baby. And I have to admit I could really empathise with wee Daisy's urge to have some time away from her boisterous babes!

Then I saw him. Baby. And it was love at first sight. He was in one of the cages at floor level and easy to miss but when I spotted him I felt that tug in my heart that only comes when something just feels right. He’s a big hunk with the most incredible markings and intelligent eyes. I think I’m in love! Mind you if I could I would take every single one of them home. I have an abundance of love to give, not to mention a sheepskin radiator bed which is crying out for a furry lump to snuggle into it.

I’m returning to Sunny Harbour on Sunday with with a couple of bags of sheets and towels (all donations are welcome) and Junior. I want to see how he and Baby respond to one another and I have my fingers (and toes) crossed that they’ll hit it off. Hopefully this time next week my happy wee family will be complete. I can’t wait.

I simply could not get over the love and quality of care those cats receive from Paul and Sarah, who run the shelter from their lovely home. All the cages were spotless and I could tell that Paul had a heart of gold and would have laid down his life for any one of those moggies. It’s just so heart-warming.

He knew all their individual personalities and quirky mannerisms. You could tell that this was a passion for him. And it would have to be. He works full time on top of caring for the cats that arrive on his doorstep. And there are lots of them. At one point they had 76 poor souls looking for homes. Every single cat receives all the best of food and treatment including microchipping, vaccinations and neutering. The kittens are cared for like newborn babies, fed hourly and all through the night. No cat is ever turned away. Paul and Sarah even bring your chosen cat to your home to ease the settling in period and so that they can check their babies have everything they need in their new surroundings. It’s such a responsible way to do things and it reassures me that every cat that finds their way to Sunny Harbour stands the best chance of finding their happy, forever home.

I’ll keep you updated on the progress with our new addition and post some photos soon. And might I take this opportunity to ask you kindly to think of our innocent, vulnerable friends this Christmas and give a donation to Sunny Harbour. The shelter is run solely off donations from the public and with those hefty vet fees and quality care every single penny matters.

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