Lucy lived with her grandparents. She was three, nearly four. She knew fairies were real. Someone had told her that fairies were not true, but she had seen them. At least, she had seen where they slept. Their sleeping chamber was made of long grass at the bottom of the garden, and decorated with the most beautiful jewellery and shells. Some of the jewellery was exactly the same as what Grandma once wore.
And then! And then! And then it was her fourth birthday! Lucy got a letter from her fairy. It was in the mailbox. It was beautiful. The fairy’s name was Gwendebelle.
I am your special fairy. Today, if you hear tinkling bells, that will be me. I will leave a birthday present for you in the garden.
Oh! The excitement! Grandpa! Grandpa! Get out of the garden! The fairy won’t come if you’re there!
Grandpa had been in the garden rigging up strings and pulleys “to keep the birds from eating my tomatoes.”
Soon it was lunch time! After that, Grandpa pulled a secret string pulley hidden behind his chair. Bells tinkled in the garden.
Gwendebelle! exclaimed Grandma. That’ll be Gwendebelle!
Lucy rushed out to the garden. There, hidden among the bell peppers, was a birthday parcel. It was a new dress for her doll. It fitted perfectly, and was stitched out of the same fabric as the dress Grandma had made for Lucy the week before.
That evening, as she lay in bed, Lucy said to her Grandma and Grandpa: “The birthday presents you gave me were lovely. But Gwendebelle’s gift was the best of all!”