Blue Fairy

Captured By The Blue Fairy - play song while you read



by Laura Botsford - a true story


Quiet and simple, that is what I knew about it then. I recall the everyday people who meant something to me in my travels.  It was my vocation then back in 1969,  just to truly be in then moment of where ever I was. 
 One day in Union Square in San Francisco, as I was checking out stores and restaurants, writing and observing; revived on Market Street with fresh cut yellow and white daffodils I bought from a  gypsy garden cart, I stopped to sit a while in the Square.

How sweet is the bustle of 18 years of age? Well pretty fascinating with the new faces all around me, however weathered or broken, I found them intriguing.

Some of the old men with their working days gone sit in Union Square waiting for a hand outs.

Above the lonely din hovered one man in particular. I sat beside a distinguished looking man who called himself Anthony. Though his clothes were ragged his stature still clung on to something upright.” What did you do for a living?” I asked. “You mean before I came to this disarrayed lifestyle of wine and begging?” He said self effacing about his current position.

“Once I worked for Disney. I made the trees dance.” His eyes wept silently, streaming in sea turtles tears of a life laid ruin in the wake of temperance lost. “I was married and had two children; they left me long ago.”

Around the corners of his mouth were hints of a smile that he must have used many times over once. I thought about how he was the one who made the branches move lyrically like a dancer. I saw twittering birds that flew all around in the balance of sweet air; the sun shinning up to him as he painted in the cells with liquid promise. His eyes must have been glimmering with enthusiasm. Now his only hope was that he could still remember a time before he became an alcoholic.

“There is always hope. There are shelters and programs in the mission where they can help you find a new beginning.” I told him.

  “Yes I stay at one, but it is not enough for me. I am just getting by, waiting for release from my shadows. I need something to live for again,” he replied.

   “How about living for yourself and the rest will come along, get well, stop drinking and remember that God loves you.” I patted his shoulder and gave him ten dollars to, “get something to eat.”

  “Thank you." He wiped away another huge tear, just like the one the turtle had in Alice in Wonderland.  Then he looked into the blue sky as if he were reading his life up there, searching for a cloud to take him home.

     I was just about to leave when a jazz trio of street musicians began to play ‘When You Wish upon a Star’. We sat peacefully together and for a brief moment of hope and better  times to come and sang along. “ When you wish upon a star, it makes no difference who you are.”
   I thought about how we all encounter a forest that either lurks to snag us with its scraggily pointed branches or wondrously courts our presence with loving welcome in a cricket's song.