I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream
In the village he was known as a dreamer. And he was.
His mother was often at her wits end to get her son moving as he took an eternity to complete the simplest of tasks.
Patrick was an odd boy. From birth his mother had known her son was different. He walked well before her other children, he was often not there when she spoke to him and that worried her as she knew there was not much future in the village for anyone who could not pull his weight and contribute to the prosperity of all.
His mother often found her son in the garden, crouched down, gaze concentrating on some aspect of life at his feet. He was fascinated by the workings or nature. He’d sit and watch bugs and insects doing what they did for hours.
As he aged he became more of a problem. Every child in the village was expected to do their bit. Patrick’s task was to bring the water from the well each morning for the families use. Being a small boy his father had made him a cart on which to carry the water.
At sunrise he would set off, pulling his cart and empty vessels toward the well. The well man would fill the empty containers, load them onto the cart and Patrick would drag them home.
This was a task Patrick could manage, no one had any doubt and he would bring home the water, he didn’t spill much but the issue as was it took him half the day to complete it.
His mother would be beside herself with frustration, as day after day no matter what cajoling she did Patrick would wander in at a time that suited him.
‘Patrick,’ she would say why are you late again.
‘I’m late?’ he’d ask.
‘Patrick I sent you off for the water four hours ago. You should have been back well before now.’
‘Oh sorry mother but I was talking you see.’
‘Talking? Patrick I need that water each morning. Sometimes I think you are just off with the fairies.’
‘I am.’
This same story was repeated every day. His mother would usually throw her hands in the air, grab the water and go off to do whatever was needed.
One morning she sat with him when he returned. She asked him about the fairies.
‘They gather round me as soon as I leave the house. They are such a chatty lot. Every morning they ask me what I had for breakfast and did I bring any for them. I say no as we only have enough for us and they seem happy with that answer. Then they follow me to the well and watch as the well man does his filling. Then as I get to the corner near he blacksmiths they say stop, as they want to watch the blacksmith in action, its something about the fire and the forge they say that fascinates them.
They are forever asking questions, the red one is the leader, the others are like ranked in colour. The runt is the purple one; she is small, very quiet, rarely says anything and sits away from the others.
We get on fine Mother. Its just talk. When I get home I don’t know where they go but they just fly off.’
His mother listened to her son and said for him to get on with his other chore, the sweeping of the kitchen floor. She wondered what it all meant.
The next day Patrick went off with his cart and was not seen again. Somewhere between the house and the well he vanished. His mother, his father his brothers and sisters searched for days, weeks, months but no trace was found.
A mother never gives up on a lost child. In her heart she knew he was alive somewhere. She clung to her belief that Patrick would come home one day soon.
Six months after his disappearance Patrick appeared to his mother in a dream. ‘I am alright,’ he said to her. ‘I understand the torment you are going through but you need to know I am still with you. You can find me mother in the shrubs in the garden, the breeze from the south, in the roses on the vine, in all things natural in your world. If a flower blooms think of me, if it rains and the well fills, think of me, if you awaken to a sunny day think of me, I am with you always.’
The next morning the mother rose from her bed disturbed by the dream but curious all the same as to why her son had appeared in a dream and a dream in which he spoke to her.
As she stepped out of her front door that morning to go for the water, a slight breeze, struck her on the cheek, it was a cooling breeze as the weather had been very warm of late. As she made her way to the well she couldn’t help but notice the roses in full bloom, the shrubbery looking resplendent, the flowers along the path all-facing towards her brilliant in the riot of colour they projected.
She was about to dismiss it all as sheer coincidence when again she felt as if slapped by the breeze; the coolness lingered with her as she stood by the well man.
It accompanied her home reinforcing within her that her son had appeared in the dream. He was still with her, he had left her world in physical form but his spirit was with her.
Her heart lifted, putting her hand to her face she felt the cool of what she knew was her son’s breath.
Written for: http://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2014/04/25/fairytale-prompt-5/
Morpethroad 
Absolutely beautiful, Michael! I loved your story, charmingly delightful and moving. xx
Hello Penny lovely to see you and thank you so much for reading and your comment.
My pleasure. I think you’re the first person I’ve visited in a while, haven’t been online very much. Hope all is going well for you. Your writing is as doing very well I see! 🙂
I am going very well thanks Penny. Life is good for me.
Excellent, as it should be Michael. Take care of you. I’m off to slumberland my dear and special friend! xo
I agree very charming story and I am very much like Patrick
Thank you Yves, I think many of us are a little like Patrick.
If you knew how slow I was lol It’s terrible I can’t multitask at all
A woman who can’t multitask? I don’t believe it.lol
lol it is perfectly true
Well I knew I’d meet one one day. Have a good day Yves.
You too Michael I hope it’s fabulous XD
A wzrm and enchanting story. It is a comforting tale to sooth a grieving mother. I enjoyed very much.
Thank Kim. Don’t you sleep Kim?
I could ask you the same. 🙂 I tend to nap here and there.
It’s 5.30pm Friday here.
3:35 am I slept at 5:30 pm that’s why I’m up now. My eyes get heavy I put the tablet down and just as I feel myself dozing off a thought sneaks in my head.
Well good morning to you. Have a good day.
A very good evening to you.
Absolutely a beautiful and heartfelt tale.
Thank you so much Anja.
A wonderful tale of the love between a mother and her son. He would always be with her. The fairies must have liked him so much to have carried him off. At least that’s what I am thinking happened. Such a lovely tale Michael.
Thank you Jackie you are right he will always be with his mum and she will know that.
its beautiful but oh oh so sad 😦
Thank you Justine I am happy to read your reaction, it is what any writer wants to evoke an emotional response in his reader, so thank you for your comment.
😀
Oh I love this, I love anything to do with fairies (my Mum believes in fairies and told us lots of stories about them growing up) this is beautifully written and I was so absorbed that I was quite sad when it ended x
Thanks Pooky the promote for this one just led me to that place. The idea of being ‘off with the fairies’ is one I know well as I have been and still am a bit of a day dreamer. Fairy tales are not always happy tales either in their traditional form but I wanted to leave this one with a sense of hope about it. Glad I could absorb you in the tale Pooky.
It left me wanting to hear all about the boy’s adventures with the fairies! It’s lovely. You write so beautifully x
Thank you so much Pooky. You have a great weekend.
You too xx
Awww, I just loved that story Michael. Gentle fairy stories always make me smile. This one was extremely satisfying!
Thank you Lyn, I appreciate your comment. I hope you are well this weekend. Enjoy.
Is there going to be a part 2!?! LOL
I’m feeling like I am left a little bit hanging here. Mayhap I watch too much Criminal Minds and am waiting for the well man to be discovered a murderer! *groans*
Beautiful written, captured and maintained my attention the entire way through!
ML
x
Thank you Lou, so happy you read and I appreciate your comment, and yes the well man is a bit of a mystery though i think he is nothing more than the well man.
I am happy to leave you hanging for fairy tales aren’t always meant to be happily ever after. Have a good weekend.
He was away with the fairies, but on a more serious note, is was a lovely tale Michael. At first I thought he was autistic. You wove the story through a mothers love of her child and a child’s love to be entranced in the magical world around him. Very nice my friend.
Thank you Jenny I am glad you made it thru the story , your lovely comment is very much appreciated.
My pleasure 🙂
Being exceedingly fond of fairies, I really enjoyed your tale. Patrick is a great character, and I hope his time with the fairies is a magical one for him.
Great story!
Thank you so much, glad you enjoyed it.
What a heartwarming story. Almost feels like an angel gone too soon has come to visit his mom.
Thank you RoSy, an excellent observation.
I just entered this one and now I remember your so so sad one!
My link is
http://eclecticoddsnsods.com/2014/04/29/fairytale-prompt-5-magical-stone/
Hope you like it, would love a vote 😀
Thanks Justine I did read your post well done and yes I did vote.
Yay good thank you xx