L. Llewellyn Byard

“My eight-year-old granddaughter, Ali, called me. ‘I need to know if the Easter Bunny is real,’ she asked. Her father is dying of pancreatic cancer. Lucy said that she reminded her of their cuddle times when they had their eyes closed, and when they had gone skating on a pond of glass-like ice, the times they flew with eagles over treetops glistening with snow, their swims with the sea turtles. Lucy reminded her of the magic of garden divas, of leaving carrots out for reindeer. Ali stopped her. ‘Grammie, my friends at school and I are building a house with mud and dirt and tree sticks for the fairies!’ Her voice rose as she remembered the magic.”
- L. Llewellyn Byard, from Rattle #9, Summer 1998