I knew this year would be my lucky year. COVID restrictions lifted enough for me to travel to France. Sadly, Notre Dame won’t open again until next year, but the view from the Eiffel Tower took my breath away. If luck holds and my plans come to fruition, I will be able to step into Quasimodo’s sanctuary in 2024. Maybe I’ll even witness the Olympics in person. The second I saw a rainbow in the sky on my way to work this morning, a plan to change my future presented itself.
I rushed back to my house, calling in sick even as I fumbled quietly for my keys. I traded my sensible pumps for even more sensible sneakers. Then I rushed back out into the morning air to seek the end of the rainbow. As I weaved in and out of familiar streets, I kept my eyes on the sky. In retrospect, I never should have found the end of the rainbow that day, but I felt lucky so I questioned nothing.
The end of the rainbow surprised me though. It exceeded my expectations. At first the sparkle of the gold sent my heart plummeting. It gave off iridescent sparkles like glitter. Had I been duped? As I stepped closer, the ethereal glitter seemed to creep up onto my skin, giving me the appearance of a magical creature.
The otherworldly sparkles couldn’t do anything for the actual magical being who stood staring up at me with his arms crossed.
“Ye foolish mortals canna help yerselves, kin ye?” He asked in a heady Irish brogue as we surveyed each other.
I didn’t dare speak, afraid my voice would shatter the illusion.
He grumbled to himself and stepped forward to poke me angrily in my kneecap. “I s’pose ye’ll be wanting me gold now?”
I nodded my head, finally loosening my tongue from the roof of my mouth. “That’s the rule, isn’t it? I find the end of the rainbow and get a pot of gold.”
“Harumph. That is the rule, isn’t it…” a flicker of a smile crossed his face and then disappeared again as he uncrossed his arms.
A black pot filled with gilded coins appeared in his hands and his face fell as he looked at me, “Of course, if ye take me gold, I canna grant ye three wishes…”
I cocked my head to the side, contemplating this revelation, “Three wishes?”
“Indeed. Ye could have so much more than this measly pot of me gold…”
My hand dropped to my side as I contemplated this. “So…”
“Ye don’t want me pot of gold then?”
“I guess not,” I said, “But I have a few questions about my wishes.”
“What wishes?” He asked with an impish grin. “I just needed ye to say ye gave up claims to me gold.”
His laughter swirled in the air around me even as he dissolved in a magical glimmer.
I laughed and cried at the same time as I stared at the edges of the rainbow that seemed untethered without the tiny magic Irishman to root them to the spot. As the hysterical laughter finally released its hold on me, I breathlessly chided myself. “I can’t believe I let him trick me. I was so close.”
~~~
I hope all your wishes come true of St. Patrick’s Day, particularly if they involve corned beef and cabbage and Irish soda bread. Yum!
I enjoyed your little "story" and know you have talent! Being a good mother is surely first, and wife 1st too. I will always know you from the first time we met and became acquainted. Wishing you much happiness! Forever!!! Ann
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