Dreams Do Come True

Dear Mama,

Well, it’s been so long since I’ve written in a journal that just seeing a blank screen in front of me is daunting now, so my friend Bert suggested I try writing to you instead. I think I should feel silly for doing this. You’ve been gone to the High Country almost twenty years now. You can’t possibly read these letters. At least that’s what I try to tell myself, but deep inside me, there is a part of my heart that can’t believe that. You promised me before you went that you would watch over me and bless me every day, and I believed it then and held onto it through everything that happened afterward, even when things seemed horrible. Now, when things are better than I ever imagined they could be, there’s so much I wish I could share with you, talk to you about, ask you about. You worked for humans too, and you would understand my life now in a way that most leps just never can.

Oh, yes, I was chosen for Shya-Roven, against everything I thought would keep me from going. They just didn’t seem to mind that I’m kind of short (yep, still short), can’t lose all my plumpness no matter how I try, or that my arms and legs are disfigured. And as for Robin, dear sweet Robin, they helped us all cope with that. I’ll tell you about that sometime, but not now, because I have a lot of other things to tell you.

I’m writing this while sitting in a big, very comfortable human chair in the living room of a spacious apartment in Illinois, where I work for my human, Nicole, her husband Brad, and their two babies, Caleb and Charis. The day I got here didn’t go like I thought it would at all. I was so, so nervous, but excited, too. Actually, by the time I zapped here right from Aunt Nell and Uncle Toth’s place, I was way more excited than nervous, thanks to my friend Bert. Madam Windsong, the head of my house at Shya-Roven, had put us in touch with each other because our humans know each other, and Nicole and L, one of Bert’s humans, are very close friends. Because of that, Nicole already knew all about Bert and lots about leps in general, so lots of things came together to make my transition to working life in the human world a lot easier than it could have been.

When I zapped into the kitchen, I expected all the humans would still be in bed. It was early, after all. Well, they were all asleep, but Nicole and the two babies weren’t in bed. They were cuddled up together in the red, comfy recliner where I’m snuggled up with a blanket, cup of tea, and my phone, writing this now. It’s taken me a while to get used to these weird chairs. They wobble around in the most alarming way when you try to climb or jump up onto them. They move sort of like swinging chairs, or like human rocking chairs, but you can’t see the rockers, so you’re never quite sure what’s making them move or holding them up, unless you look underneath and see all the cogs and springs and stuff, but there weren’t any of those in the human room at Shya-Roven, so I had no idea what they were at first. Anyway, Nicole was sleeping in one of them, with her head falling down onto her chest. Caleb was snuggled up in one arm. Caleb is big, almost as big as I am, and definitely as wide, with strong, chubby arms and legs, a darling face, and the sweetest disposition you could ever hope to find in a baby. He looked comfortable, sound asleep with one finger in his mouth. Charis was in Nicole’s other arm. Charis is much younger and smaller than her brother. They look a lot alike, but she has more delicate features and is just a little newborn. She was slipping down and looked like she might fall between Nicole’s body and the arm of the chair. Seeing her like that made all my childcare training kick in. I knew it wasn’t very safe for her to be like that, but I was afraid if I spoke or tried to move her, Nicole would wake up and be really scared to find a stranger there, reaching for one of her precious babies.

Boy, I was right. I just didn’t have to be the one to wake her up. Her email chimed when Shya-Roven sent her my contract and information about me and why I was there, and she jumped and sort of freaked out when she realized how she’d been sleeping. I tried to reassure her, and it did scare her. But once she calmed down and discovered I wasn’t a hallucination but a leprechaun, she actually got excited! Imagine that! She let me take Charis, soothe her back to sleep, and lay her down, and then I made breakfast for everyone. Afterward, while Nicole and I were doing the mountains of dishes in the double kitchen sink and putting them away, she told me she’d already signed my contract and sent it back. She wanted me to stay!

Why didn’t you ever tell me you worked with humans, Mama? And how, oh, how could you leave them? I’ve only been here for about a week and a half, and I don’t think I ever could, not for anything! I love helping with the babies and having such a nice kitchen to cook in, even though nothing is my size. I don’t even mind that anymore. I have a comfy bed all to myself in the nursery where the babies sleep, and Nicole and L between them have given me so many nice things. I never have to worry about food now, and I never, never have to eat wild food again! Glech!

But those aren’t the reasons I want to stay. I want to stay because they’re kind to me. They say please and thank you. They let me know they’re happy with what I do and they appreciate it. And Nicole really cares about how I feel and what I think. There are lots of things that still really take me by surprise about the human world and the way humans live, and some of them even seem scary or dangerous. But with the help of all my new friends, I’m learning.

Well, it’s really, really late, everyone else is asleep, and I should be too. We all have an early morning coming, and I have a busy day. It’s Nicole and Brad’s wedding anniversary, and they’re going to Chicago for the day to see an art museum while I take care of Caleb and Charis. I know I can handle the babies, even Caleb, but I sort of wish I could go too. I’d like to see all that human art. Oh well. I get to do so many really nice things now, I’m not going to complain when I don’t. Anyway, I like my work and love the babies. I’ll write more soon.

Love,
Elli