A Part of the Magic

Gina Joy - Clarkston, Michigan
Entered on April 25, 2005

Age Group: 30 - 50
  • Listen to This I Believe on RadioPublic

  • Podcasts

    Sign up for our free, weekly podcast of featured essays. You can download recent episodes individually, or subscribe to automatically receive each podcast. Learn more.

  • FAQ

    Frequently asked questions about the This I Believe project, educational opportunities and more...

  • Top Essays USB Drive

    This USB drive contains 100 of the top This I Believe audio broadcasts of the last ten years, plus some favorites from Edward R. Murrow's radio series of the 1950s. It's perfect for personal or classroom use! Click here to learn more.

Three ages of goddesses sat around the council tale deciding whether to outlaw thunderstorms all together in the kingdom. One goddess was old, the second was young and the third was young to the one and old to the other. They spoke to each other with compassion and understanding. Only occasional sips from their porcelain cups of magical, warm, brown brew, or nervous glances upward to the storm cloud filled sky would interrupt their conversations. And far, far away…

In my memory, before I was of school age, I remember quiet mornings with Mom. After Dad had left for work, and my brother and sister had left for school, we enjoyed sweet, peaceful time before we washed, dressed and started our day of housework, play and a variety of errands. Nothing seemed to interrupt those mornings, not weather, not phone calls, visitors, or deliveries. Only on a few rare mornings, usually during spring storms, would we receive a phone call from an old woman, a friend of the family. If the thunder and lightning had become too intense, she would ask us to come and spend the day with her so she wouldn’t be afraid. Without any hesitation, my mother would get the two of us ready. By either our own car or a cab, we would make the short, quick trip to the old woman’s home.

Upon our arrival, there would be no mention of fear, storm, or rescue. There was always hot cocoa waiting in a tea party setting with fresh flowers and additional baby doll guests. The tea set was beautiful, white china, not large-sized for adults, nor small for dolls, but just the right size for me. So much cocoa was in the teapot that it would settle in the bottom to form chocolate mud. It was a magical brew, that cocoa. Often the storm would subside, but the talk would continue. I didn’t always understand the topics of conversation between my mother and the old woman; but, when the old woman directed questions to me, they were perfectly matched to my intellect and favorite subjects. She would ask about colors of things in the rain compared to how they look on a sunny day; what had my kitten done; where had I gone on my last bike ride.

Mom had taught me to make, from a situation in which someone was hurt, in need, or afraid, an atmosphere of betterment and hope. In doing so, the enjoyment of friendship could override the original reason for being brought together. Through this fellowship came the knowledge that we goddesses are equipped and capable even if the worst happens; maybe more so than if nothing happens.

It is the closest thing I can remember to possessing fairy dust and using magical powers. As long as there are old women, young girls, cocoa, fear, and dreams, I will continue to search for more of our magic. You are a part of that magic.