Christina The Christmas Fairy

We have a fairy that has been in our family for years. My grandma made her for my great grandma, and she gave her to my mum, years later, and every Christmas, Mum gets her out of the loft, and sticks her on top of the mirror in the living-room. My grandma did the same when she had her. She is a Christmas fairy, because her dress is patterned with tinsel, and my grandma made her at Christmas, as a present for her mum. My grandma called her Christina. Christina the Christmas fairy.
The fairy was made because when my grandma was at school, they all had to make a present for their parents. And Grandma made Christina for her mum, because her mum absolutely adored fairies.
I remember when I was younger, my mum told me that Grandma’s mum got cancer. My great grandma was told she had cancer at the worst possible time, Christmas.
The decorations were already hung up in their house, and that included Christina, who resided in her usual spot at the top of the mirror in the living-room. My mum told me once that Grandma told her that when she found out her mum had got cancer, she talked about it to Christina for hours, and she told Christina her one wish. That if her mum did die, at least she would’ve seen at least one more Christmas. Apparently, according to Mum, Grandma’s wish came true. My great grandma lived through that Christmas, and passed away early the following spring.
After that, Grandma was convinced that Christina was a magical fairy, who could grant wishes. This was because she’d told Christina her wish for her mum to live through at least one more Christmas, and she did.
When my great grandma passed away, she’d left Christina to Grandma. Grandma wasn’t really into fairies the way her mum was, but she still kept her, because she had made her wish come true. When my mum was grown up, and had moved out into a house with my dad when I was born, she was given Christina. Poor old Christina lives in the loft all year, but she still sits on top of the mirror, every Christmas. My mum told me that Christina had, once upon a time, made her wish come true as well.
When my mum was eight, she’d read a book at school. It was “Charlie And The Chocolate Factory,” by Roald Dahl. Her teacher would read a chapter a day, in English, and then they would write an essay on that chapter. My mum told me she fell in love with the book, and said that her favourite character was Augustus Gloop, because, she too, loved chocolate. When Christina lived in the living-room at Christmas, my mum would hold ‘conversations’ with her. One of these was about how much she loved the book “Charlie And The Chocolate Factory,” and how she thought the part with Veruca Salt getting chucked down the rubbish chute by the squirrels was hilarious, because she thought Veruca Salt was a spoilt little brat. Mum had told Christina that they had just finished the book at school, and she wished she could read it again, at home. That Christmas, my grandma brought her the book.
That was when Mum was convinced that Christina was a wishing fairy, because Christina was the only one she told about her love for “Charlie And The Chocolate Factory.” She never, ever told my grandma. Of course, there was the possibility that Grandma could have listened when Mum told Christina, but when Mum asked, she denied it. Mum carried on believing it was all down to Christina because it all sounded so magical and Christmassy to her.
Then, it was my turn for a Christina wish. Usually at Christmas, my mum and dad spends loads on presents, food and alcohol. But this year, money had been tight, and they couldn’t spend as much as they could. It got to the point that Dad would want to buy this, or that, but Mum wouldn’t let him, because they had to watch the money, and then they would argue for hours about it. It was really scary, and I would shut myself in my bedroom, away from it, and put on some loud music. Sometimes, though, I could still hear them arguing over the music.
There was one night where I’d forgotten to take a drink upstairs with me. My mouth was starting to feel like the Sahara Desert, so I went downstairs for a glass of milk. Mum and Dad had gone to bed by then, so I tried to be as quiet as I could. I went into the living room, and instead of switching on the TV, I turned on the Christmas Tree lights, and watched those as they changed colour. Red, green, yellow, blue, purple. Then my attention fell on Christina. She was sat dead in the centre on top the mirror, which hang on the wall. All I could see of her was her dress, billowed out in a circle, with her small head in the centre, and an even smaller arm, raised, clutching a wand. Poor Christina was looking quite old these days, but she was still pretty.
“Hello, Christina,” I said. There was no reply, of course. But it felt good to talk to someone, even if it was an inanimate object. “I know about the wish you made come true for my grandma. And the one you made come true for my mum. So here’s one I’m going to tell you now. I wish that Mum and Dad would stop arguing, and they’ll stay together for years, and that we will be able to afford a brilliant Christmas this year.”
And you know what? It came true. Mum and Dad did stop arguing, and they’re still together now. As for Christmas that year. It was fantastic. We all got loads of presents, Mum from Dad and me, Dad from Mum and me, and me from Mum and Dad. We had a really lovely roast turkey dinner, we played lots of games and pulled lots of crackers, and we stuffed ourselves silly on chocolates.
It is now fourteen years later, and I am twenty two years old. I’ve moved out into a flat of my own, but I always go round to Mum and Dad’s house to spend Christmas with them. Christina still sits up on the mirror, looking good for a nearly sixty year old fairy. And, even now, whenever I see her, I always say:
“Thank you, Christina.”