When Lucy was a small child she liked nothing more than to curl up in her Grandad’s lap and listen to his stories.

It became a ritual they went through each time Lucy visited.

Now Lucy was a teenager Grandad thought the days of her requesting a tale at bedtime would now be over. But she insisted each time she visited that Grandad tell her a tale before bed.

Sometimes she would ask for the tale she most loved to be retold and Grandad was happy to do so.

Nowadays she would sit beside him, her arm curled inside of his as she listened to his tales. What she liked most was his using her name in every tale. She always felt he was talking about her even in his most far-fetched tales.

Once upon a time began Grandad there lived a girl call Lucy. She lived with her mum in a small house on the edge of town.

Each day after a full day of play Lucy’s mum would call her in and make ready for bed. They had a routine every night that Lucy would ask her mum for a story before bedtime.

So snuggled in her bed Lucy would listen to her mother’s tale enthralled by the wonder her mother was able to conjure each night.

At the stories conclusion Lucy would ask for the light to be left on, as she was afraid of the dark.

Lucy was always quick to tell her mum that when the light was out visitors would come and Lucy felt afraid of them.

So her mum would leave the light on until she was sure Lucy was asleep and then turn it off.

Invariably during the night Lucy would call out for her mother who would come and rock her back to sleep.

One morning Lucy’s mum noted that she had not heard Lucy call for her during the night.

Over breakfast she asked Lucy if she had had a good night’s sleep.

Lucy then told her about her night.

She had awoken to find the visitors around her bed but in front of the visitors stood a white haired lady who told Lucy not to be afraid.

Lucy reported that the white haired lady then sat on her bed and spoke to her about all manner of things.

Eventually the lady said she was to leave and told Lucy to go back to sleep.

Mother was pleased her daughter was no longer afraid of the dark and was thinking her daughter was passing from a childhood fear to a stage of very vivid dreams.

This went on for several nights, not a word from her daughter and a morning report about the old lady.

Deciding to investigate further the mother stood outside her daughter’s bedroom and waited until her daughter was asleep before turning off the light as she did each night.

She opened the door a fraction to note that Lucy was indeed sound asleep and then crept to her own bed.

Some minutes later she heard a noise in Lucy’s bedroom.

She walked to the door and peering in saw her daughter sitting up, her eyes staring at the end of the bed.

Lucy was listening to something and then replying in the softest of voice.

The mother couldn’t hear what was being said but watching she couldn’t help but feel her daughter was not in any peril. Eventually Lucy lay down and drifted off to sleep leaving her mother to wonder at what she had just witnessed.

Over breakfast she asked Lucy to tell her about the old lady.

Lucy was very eloquent in telling her mother about the old lady.

‘She looks so much like you mum,’ Lucy said. ‘I think that’s what I first thought, but she’s not, I know that now.’

‘Why do you think she comes?’ Asked her mum

‘Oh I know,’ now replied Lucy looking at her mother with eyes of great wisdom. ‘She tells me I should not be afraid of the past, that family is an all powerful force that will keep you safe and away from danger.’

Lucy’s mother looked at her daughter, tears springing from her eyes as she remembered hearing those very same words when she was a child.

Hugging her daughter the mother felt a weight had been lifted from her shoulders for as difficult as life was for her bringing up a daughter she knew what the words meant.

‘Mum?’

‘Yes.’ Still holding her daughter close.

‘The lady said you’d understand.’

Lucy looked up at Grandad knowing the story was concluded.

‘I love that tale Grandad, it always makes me cry and now days I see what the lady meant by the importance of family.’

‘I’m glad you do.’

‘That lady in the tale Grandad, she was your mum wasn’t she?’

“Yes.’ Whispered Grandad.

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2015/04/30/tale-weaver-11-bedtime-stories-for-grown-up-children/