“Nana, where do the fairies hide?” Jana sprinkled water on the potted flowers with her red watering can.

“Dearest, they could be in the darkest parts of the pine tree. Between rocks in walls, in the curl of an unopened flower or in the wrinkled bark of a tree.”

Jana looked carefully in all those places, even peering into the furled petals of flowers, but nowhere did she see shimmering wings or shining faces. Then she lifted the leaves of a hosta just opening its white trumpets.

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