The Origin of Birdie, the WonderKeeper Witch
When my sister and I were wee little girls, my mom would sometimes make us butter-and-sugar sandwiches, telling us they were the very thing princesses ate for supper. She’d spread soft butter on a slice of white bread and sprinkle it generously with sugar, as if she were decorating a Valentine with sparkling white glitter. She made us feel like princesses ourselves.
She had moments of whimsy with us, but usually she was too busy being a mother—and a wife to a… challenging?… man.
Years later, as a grandmother, she found more room for her true sense of fun, imagination, and playfulness. She lived in the country, in a house on the edge of a forest. The forest floor was dotted with weeping springs and mushrooms, and it sloped down to a clear, cool creek, ankle-deep in most places, with a few knee-deep spots where her grandchildren—all girls—and their friends could “swim.”
She told them stories about a runaway princess, a prince, and… a witch. The witch lived deep in that very forest. She was all alone because the townspeople misunderstood her, but she secretly did good deeds for the folks at night. She would stealthily leave them new shoes on their porch when their old ones wore out. She cast protections and sprinkled wildflower seeds throughout the town so that by spring the vibrant colors of bluebonnets, paintbrushes, and black-eyed Susans would delight all who drove through. I’m certain Mom based at least some of that witch on herself.
Years later, I tried to create moments of sparkle for my own two little girls, too. But I was often too busy being a mother—and a wife to a… challenging?… man.
I’ve been thinking about my mother lately, about her tales, and about that witch. I’m now as old as my mother was when she spun those stories, and my own imagination has begun to spark. I realized that a witch lives inside me, too! She showed up as a part of me, but with far more wisdom and far fewer flaws—though she has her funny little quirks, too.
This blog will be written through the eyes of Birdie, the WonderKeeper Witch. It’s her letter to me: “advice” for an aging woman who sometimes loses her way, forgets that messes can be sources of creation and new beginnings, and occasionally needs reminding that the world is still full of wonder and wildness—and that there is magic in simply caring for one another, even in the smallest of ways.
Birdie will share her wisdom, her stories, and her own brand of magic. She’ll share her “potions”—recipes for nourishing soups and refreshing teas—along with what she grows in her garden, how she finds comfort, and how she summons the courage of her own spirit to get through the tough times. Her stories may be loosely based on my own, but Birdie will look for the lessons and the sometimes-hidden joys. She will find the wonder in the mundaneness of everyday life.
So grab a cup of something delicious, spread some soft butter on your favorite bread (sprinkled with a liberal amount of sugar, of course), and spend a little time getting to know Birdie. She’s got some things to say, some stories to tell, and a heart to share!
