The Fairy  

I saw a fairy in a tree

And it just threw red shoes at me.

I just happened to slip then on

And then I started to dance along.

The fairy laughed at the sight

As I was dancing day and night

For until the dawn of light. 

© 2006 Oisín Bancroft, age 9 

Red Shoes 

Red shoes are made for fairy’s feet.

When music comes they dance to the beat.

But when dawn comes and the cock crows

the fairy music and elves go. 

© 2006 Saoirse Bancroft, age 11  

This week in Corrogue…

It’s unusual to get such immediate feedback to a piece of creative work. Last week I had the pleasure of the company of three children one of whom has a name that translates from the Irish as ‘Little Fairy.’ It seemed appropriate to read them Tony’s story Tell me a Riddle, which you can read on this website. These children are not so jaded as not be interested in fairy stories. They live in a hollow below Cuilcagh Mountain at a place called Glen na Sidh, the Fairy Glen.  Fairies and stories about them are…well, normal! When you live in this landscape there is no suspension of disbelief on otherworldly matters. It feels as natural as the morning mist. You get intimations almost daily if your ears are finely tuned. Dragonflies are prolific at this time of year; some stories would tell us they are simply fairies that have shape shifted into these insects for ease of travel. The mayflower on the hawthorn fairy tree is nearly finished. Its blossom showers us as we walk the lanes and boreens. 

There are two points in the Irish year when fairies – the Tuatha de Danaan – the shining tribe of the goddess Danu – are thought to be particularly active. At May Day, or Beltaine to name the Celtic festival that is also the Irish for the month of May, fairies are meant to be in high celebratory spirits. Then at Halloween, or Samhain, the Irish for both November and the Celtic New Year festival over Halloween, children dress up as ghosts and goblins so that the fairies will not steal away our chubby mortal young’uns. Mortal children and babies are particularly attractive to fairies. They also have not completely lost touch with that ‘otherworld’ of joy and non-separation from love. It is easier for them to cross over into the world of fairy than serious grown ups. 

Fairies need to be treated respectfully, if not reverentially. If they like you they will heap good fortune upon your head. If they think you are truly special they will gift you the ability to prophesy and heal, like Biddy Early, the white witch of Clare. But if you cross them – and that usually means you have literally crossed over or built onto their territory – then they will take no prisoners. 

At any rate, the two elder children set to writing poems inspired by the story. This week they came again after school and proudly brandished their poems and wrote them down so that Tony could read them when he came in from work.     Many thanks to Oisín and Saoirse Bancroft for their permission to post their poems this week. Also thanks to their mum for agreeing to the poems being posted. 

© 2006 Bee Smith