Key To My Heart

When I was a little girl my grandmother had, what seemed to me, a thousand antique treasures. Their unique shapes and mysterious origins held my young imagination captivate for hours on end. By far my favorite of Grandma's wondrous trinkets was a small brass key that she had laid reverently upon the scarlet velvet interior of her Grandmother's Dutch jewelry box, painted white with blue windmills across its surface. Whenever I would ask her what this little key was made to unlock, and why it held such a reverent place, my grandmother would bend close to my ear and, in a hushed whisper, she would tell me
"That is the key to the world of the fairies."

The winter I turned nine my parents let me fly out to see my grandma. On the morning of my birthday I woke up to find only one small present laid out on her round wooden table, a little white box tied up with a pink bow. My excitement grew because grandma had a saying that the best things in life came in small packages. My delight turned to surprise as I opened the box and found the magic key that I had been admiring for so many years.

In vain I searched everywhere I could think of for the door that would lead me to the fairy land. I carried the key with me wherever I went and tried it against the locks of every door, cupboard and box I came across, but I never found it's home. As I grew older I came to believe that the world of fairies must be locked away inside of our hearts, and that my Grandmother's key was crafted to magically unlock mine.

Ever since then I have kept the key to my heart tucked safely away where I would never lose it. On days that life feels especially wondrous I take it out to admire it the same as I did when I was little. A reminder to myself of the magic that holds our universe together.