It struck me today as I swept my rooms that I can recall many times in my past where I begged the Universe to send me a rescue, like a miracle or Fairy Godmother, any number of the Heroes and Helpers that are scattered about all the stories we are raised on. At first I became sad thinking how I'd been disregarded, if not ignored. For no dramatic characters ever appeared to sweep away all the turama.
I blame Frankenstein for that. He is such a whiner! Every one of his actions and moods is always someone else's fault. I've been listening to Mary Shelley's audiobook, so I may be a bit under that monster's influence.
It slowly dawned on me, as Dannie assisted me in my endeavors to sweep up the floor and put away his toys, all my Helpers have been subtle. People willing to give me a reliable transportation so I could go to classes and even as far as conveying me over the mountains and back safely so I could accomplish goals that would benefit us. People who left a tip, slide an extra treat in the grocery order, didn't comment on the tear marks, guided me when I couldn't make a coherent sound, anonymously left entire feasts or holidays on my doorstep... So many Helpers.
No glitter, lights, dramatic musical numbers, or transformations. Just slow steady support.
And that is MAGIC.
Okay, I'm getting emotional so I'll stop.
I cherish each glimpse of Fairy Godmothers, Heroes, and Helpers I have experienced.
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