The Little Book Of Stories

The Little Book Of Stories

Once upon a time, there was a little book of stories that had no readers.

Day after day and night after night, it would sit on the dark shelf in the back corner in the cellar of an ancient library and it would dream, because that is what all books do when there is nobody to read them.

The little book of stories wasn't unhappy in its dreaming. It held many worlds inside, and every world was a space, and there was time; there was weather, sunshine bright, clouds building, rain would fall and sometimes, there was deep rolling thunder and bright flashes of lightning, but then the sun would rise again the land would lie, sparkling and refreshed in the morning, ready for new adventures because each world had beings in it of all sorts of different kinds.

The little book of stories would dream of dragons and fairies, of gnomes and many wondrous beings, and of course, of people who were trying to make their way through their worlds, and who faced many challenges on their amazing journeys.

But sometimes, just sometimes, the little book would feel a strange kind of sadness, as though there was something missing. Like a wave that sometimes arises in the deep ocean, this sadness would come, from nowhere so it seemed, and the little book would sense just for a moment that there was a darkness, an emptiness around and beyond its many worlds. The wave would pass, and the little book of stories then returned to its dreaming, and all was well once more, until the wave would come again.

Now little it is known, each book that ever was, and every book that is to be, has its very own fairy.

A book, you see, is something that is made by people, and it starts with an idea.

The idea is like a star that flashes brightly; it is the moment of conception for each book, when the entire book and all that it will be arrives in our shared dimension. The star contains all the future still to come, and when that happens, a portal is created and a fairy comes along with that, the spirit of the book, so we might say.

However!

Not every book is written. There are many more such ideas than there are people willing to take the time, the trouble and the effort to sit down and write reality into being; and those stars flash and then become invisible, but that doesn't mean they're ever gone. The book idea and its very own fairy still exist, high up and elsewhere, north of nowhere, we might say, and it is said that all the fairies in this other place have a wonderful time and they tell each other the stories of their books.

Sometimes all the stars align just right, and the person who created the star idea in the first place will undertake the extraordinary task of dedicating the most precious thing they own, the time of their life, to writing out the whole story, slowly and meticulously, one single letter at a time, one single word after the other, and in doing so, transfers the story star into the dimensions where the people live, and work and play.

Of course, the Star Fairy watches this and is delighted; and the Star Fairy will do its very best to encourage the human writer to make their laborious letters fine and straight, and flow as many multicoloured silken banners would from one to the other, creating a river of story and of information that flows through a brand new world.

This is, as it is and as it has been; the Star Fairies are always astonished and amazed by the world of people, and how they do their things. The words are all on their pages now, the story has been told, and now, the strange process begins of turning the manuscript into a book. The Star Fairies follow along with this adventure, as they do, invisible and unnoticed by most; and there are many manuscripts that never make it all the way. Here, too, is a level, a different layer of reality, where there are many Star Fairies and they too tell each other their stories, and live happily ever after; gladly welcoming new arrivals who are bringing new stories, and having a fine old time of it.

There are some manuscripts, however, who make it all the way and they are born at last as books into the dimension where there are a multitude of objects that people touch and trade.

Sometimes, the book is just a single copy, hand lettered, hand written on precious pages, stitched together oh so carefully and bound in hides, and sometimes, the book is many books, made by machines; and sometimes, the books is made from many Ones and Zeros and flies through the ether in the strangest way – but always, a book is a book, and every book has its Star Fairy, who can be in a million places, all across time and space, all at the same time.

It is mysterious and wonderful how this works; quite delightful, indeed!

Now you might think this is the end of this amazing story of the Star Books and the Star Fairies, but there is yet another level still to come on this extraordinary journey.

Of course, you've guessed it right, what happens when a person finds their way to a book, and takes it in their hands, looks at the front cover, turns it over, looks at the back cover, and then they slowly open it, and start to read …?

Oh, but can you feel the magic?

Can you sense how all across the multifold dimensions connections awaken, beings raise their eyes and heads, shivers of excitement travel through … everywhere and everything, and a whole new level of reality comes into being?

The book awakens from its dreaming, the Star Fairy dances sparkles in delight, and the person enters into the worlds inside the book, brings their own existence to the story, their own ideas and inspirations, so that the book itself is changed and now becomes brand new in its awakening.

And this happens every single time a person reads a book, afresh, anew, and it is filled with wonder, every single time anew, afresh.

So many worlds … so many multifold dimensions … connections being made, a web of such wonder and amazement coming into being … it is incomprehensible in its beauty and its power.

Once upon a time, in a place that was and is, there was a little book of stories, sitting on a dark shelf in a back corner of a cellar of a great publishing house, and it was dreaming.

It had been dreaming for a long time, lovingly looked after by its Star Fairy, who had no time for time and kept on loving it, as the dust of many years lovingly settled like tiny flakes of snow upon its cover and the tips of its pages, and the little book was thus entirely unaware that a shaft of light had fallen into the dark cellar room.

Someone had opened the door!

There is a child, a young explorer, who had made their way down the stairs and opened the forbidden doors, to see what they might find.

There are many, many rooms in the cellars of the publishing house, and all of them contain endless shelves of dreaming books, so we may wonder why it was that on this day, this child would have opened this door among the many, looked inside, saw all the dreaming books and chose to open the door wide and step inside, and make their way to the very shelf, right at the back, where our little book of stories was to be found.

We may wonder if there was something about this curious child who could sense the Star Fairy, waving and sparkling, as all the Star Fairies of all the dreaming books might have been; if there was a resonance between the child and this particular Star Fairy; whether they had a connection, a mutual attraction, a familarity …

The child takes a deep breath of the old library air as it steps forward, bravely, into the semi darkness.

At one point, the child closes its eyes and puts their hands forward, feeling their way towards something that they already know is here, is waiting for them; a gathering awareness of moving towards the perfect place in time and space – this is why I am here, and I know it.

Yes, and there it is.

The child reaches up and pulls the little book of stories from the shelf.

The child carefully brushes the dust of the ages from the cover, which rises and sparkles; and there is the Star Fairy, hands clasped now in expectation, holding their breath as the child looks at the front cover, turns the book, looks at the back cover, turns and moves towards the light of the open door to see … and … opens the book and starts to read …

Oh, but can you feel the magic?

Can you sense how all across the multifold dimensions connections awaken, beings raise their eyes and heads, shivers of excitement travel through … everywhere and everything, and a whole new level of reality comes into being?

The book awakens from its dreaming, the Star Fairy dances sparkles in delight, and the person enters into the worlds inside the book, brings their own existence to the story, their own ideas and inspirations, so that the book itself is changed and now becomes brand new in its awakening.

And this happens every single time a person reads a book, afresh, anew, and it is filled with wonder, every single time anew, afresh.

Silvia Hartmann

13/12/2023

Read out for World Book Day 7/3/2024