There is magic in this world. But it isn't for the whimsical or gentle as one might think. You have to be daring to believe

Magic is there like a thought or a feeling.

You cannot see a thought or feeling nor magic but believe me when I say all three are as real as the earth we walk on.

On this note, I shall begin my story.....

Once upon a time, there was an orphan girl Named Geneviève who lived in a village surrounded by dense forest.

The world had not been kind to this gentle soul and in her few years she had seen true sadness. However, unlike most, her heart was strong and filled with hope and that hope beamed through her kind smile.

She now lived in an orphanage at the centre of town. The building was a vast cold place with grey walls that seemed unable to reach the distant ceilings.

Her bed sat under the window at the end of a long dormitory. The view from the window looked down onto the busy market place below. She often watched the men and women of the marketplace as they roared the prices of fine cheese, bread, oranges and trinkets to rouse interest in the passers-by.

She shared her room with 11 other orphaned children but unlike Playgrounds, sweet shops and schools this place did not ring with laughter and giggles. The smiles and giggles that children brought to those places did not echo around these walls.

Each night she lay in her bed and stared out of the window. The busy market place lay silent and the gas lamps yellow glow. The glow covered the closed stalls and railings in the resting marketplace. Now the stars twinkled in the sky, instead of in the haggler's eyes that were hungry for a bargain. Geneviève adored the stars light and the gas lamps warm yellow glow. She loved how the gas lamps glow sat on the snow covered streets night after night echoing the day's sun that had long since past. She adored how the starlight made her blankets seem blue rather than the dull grey they truly were. However, most of all she loved how the gas lamps and the stars were there, every night without fail. They tucked her in and they read her bedtime stories when she shut her eyes. They, unlike everything else, were perpetual and she knew that each night the gas lamps would shine and the stars would twinkle, without fail. They spoke of gallant knights, dancing princesses, endless rooms filled with toys, cookies with chocolate chips as big as boulders and polar bears that cuddled you and looked after you and kept you safe whilst you slept. When she shut her eyes the stars told the stories her Mother used to tell her.

The children in the orphanage came and went like the seasons. Often the children arrived with a spring in their step and then left with the darkness of winter furrowed across their brows in the middle of the night. Sometimes children arrived because their families could no longer afford to look after them, sometimes the families worked hard and the children were able to go home but sometimes they did not and some nights they just disappeared.

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Holly the elf and Johnny her dog