Hello everyone, everywhere,

It’s been a very quiet week for me. I’ve had time to try to rest and do some more writing. I think sometimes I get lost in myself because when I open my eyes and look around I’m so unguarded that I fear to close my eyes sometimes. The reality is that most of my friends are gone and I find myself confused sometimes about what direction I’m going to take. It’s sad to say that I find comfort in a vision of reality, which sets up tonight’s story that life is more than but a dream. The vision I see is a little boy standing on a highway all by himself. There’s no sound but the wind.

When I was standing on that highway all those many years ago, I used to close my eyes and wonder where I was going.  I believe there’s still magic in the world somewhere. So I felt today that I needed to go back to where I first found my strength. My fight began in a hospital bed as I laid there as alone as I am now.  I think of those children fighting so hard and I want them to know that there is someone looking over them now and forever.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts, if only for a moment…and rest. I would like to bring a little magic to every little soul in every hospital bed. This is for you, and you, and you. That’s it.

Thank you to…let’s call her Haylee. That’s it.


It all began with a lovely thought.

A little old man sat on a bench. A cool wind was snapping; everyone around him couldn’t get away from that wind fast enough. Night approached and the lights started turning on in the darkening sky.

The day before you see, this little old man, Mr. William A. Forthryte, took a package of crayons and paper to the children’s ward at the hospital, the same hospital that his wife Ellen had been in for so long. As often happened, as William made his way out, he took the wrong hallway. He walked toward the end of the hall to try to find the elevator, and as he went, he saw all the little people in their hospital beds. There were children with no hair, some with missing parts, and some just had a strange colour. Just a thought…keep going…more beds with little faces looking back at him.

He had almost made it to the end of the hall when he felt a need to look to this left. And there he looked into a smile so bright that he almost had to close his eyes.  The child waved to him and he felt like he had been hit by a truck. The child’s mother was sleeping on a cot next to her. And then William A. Forthryte had an idea.

When he was a young man a long long time ago, he went to the annual fair. And at this fair there was a fortune teller, a very old woman with a scary face and lots of chains and bracelets on her arms. William was curious, so he went to have his fortune told. Now most of that stuff was just for fun but William listened, and like any eleven-year-old would, he started to believe. 

The fortune teller looked in his eyes and said, “Young man, I see something special in you. I also see you have something special to take care of. Take this pouch and everything will be fine.”

Eyes wide open, William said, “What is in this pouch you gave me? The powder is moving inside it.”

The woman replied, “Put it away safe. One day you will use it. Magic is what you’ll see.”

Young William put the pouch in his pocket and when he looked up the woman was gone. He went home and threw the pouch in the back of his sock drawer. And there it stayed for many years.

Now William finds himself thinking about that little face and that wave. William is a man whose dreams were pushed aside, for survival was the call of the day. He had been alone longer than anyone should be.  But it’s funny how one glance into the eyes of an angel can change a man forever.

William went to his one-room apartment downtown–always busy, always noisy. He went to his old dresser and opened that sock drawer, and just like that, he reached in and pulled out the pouch of magic dust.

 The next day he put the pouch in his pocket and went to the park across the street from the hospital where he sat on his favourite bench. He was so tired, but he knew it was almost time to go. He took the pouch out of his pocket and held it up with his shaky old hands.  He took the magic dust, looked way up, and said, “Magic dust, magic dust, work one time. One time work. One time, please work.” And he threw it to the sky and the stars.

Sometimes magic really happens. And when William opened his eyes, there they were, all the children, dancing in the wind, without a care or worry.

A fantasy? Maybe. But as they faded into the sky, William closed his eyes and said, “Good night.”

That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson

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