The Yarn

The Yarn

“Why did you say Grammie was spinning a yarn Grampie? There wasn’t even any yarn there,” said six-year-old Addie.

“It’s just a saying Honey.”

“I know, you said it.”

Grampie laughed, “It’s a different kind of ‘said’ when you call it a ‘saying.” At the perplexed look on her face, Grampie went on to say, “You know how your Dad says ‘It’s raining cats and dogs’ when it’s just raining really hard? That’s called a Saying.”

“Oh. So a ‘yarn’ is just a story.”

“Yes sometimes they have little pieces of truth in them, so that they sound more real, but they’re really just stories.”

“It was a good one too.”

“Yes, it was good, I heard it too.

“My favorite part was when the leaf floated down and landed right on top the girls head, and she jumped and threw her plate up!”

“Yes, that was funny!”

“...and then it came back down full of golden coins!”

“Now that’s where you should have suspected it was just a fairy tale. Where would golden coins have come from in the middle of a forest?”

“I suppose...” Addie said, wandering off.

Grampa watched her go smiling, kids lose interest in things so fast, he thought.

When she got to her tree she looked in the hole to see if her gold coins were still there.

“You can’t tell your Grandfather about them,” her fairy friend, Twinkie, said, “just let him think you believe Gramma’s story was a fairy tale!”

“Oh, alright.” Addie said, grumpily. “It’s no fun being the youngest magic person in the family you know!”

“Addie” a soft voice came from behind her, it was Mommy, “Soon you’ll grow into your gift, I promise.” and Mommy kissed the top of her head, and everything was right again.