Thursday, March 17, 2011

To Know Truth is Magic - One Act Play

Play while reading story

To Know Truth is Magic – One Act Play

Scene One:  Neighbors gathered at the end of their cul-de-sac on a summer evening.

“He’s such an odd kid.  Danny, right?  I hardly ever see him playing outside.  He seems happy enough, but it seems like his folks should get him outside more.  I’m just sayin’.”

“Well, honey, maybe he has allergies or is afraid of bugs.  Maybe he bruises easily.  I think there’s some disease like that.  Maybe he’s allergic to sunlight.  I just heard a story on NPR about a kid who’s allergic to the sun.  Weird, huh?”

“I bet it’s video games, or computer games.  The kid’s probably in his basement hooked up to all kinds of games and never even thinks about going outside.”

“His parents seem nice enough.  They always smile and wave, but you just never know what goes on inside people’s houses if you know what I mean.” 

“How old do you think he is now?  They home school him, too, so the poor little bugger doesn’t even have that many friends.  I did see a little boy go over there one day but he didn’t stay long.” 

“I think he’s probably about ten or eleven years old by now.  I see them go by in the car every once in a while, so at least they take him places sometimes.” 

“Probably to the doctor to see what’s wrong with him.”

“Real nice, Joe.”

“I guess it’s none of my business, but don't blame me if I say I told you so when he turns out to be one of those weird teenagers who turns violent and starts shooting people.”

“That’s a bit strong don’t you think.  He’s just a kid.”

“I’m just sayin’.”

Scene Two:  Family room of the neighbor’s house.    Danny is sitting at his desk with a notebook in front of him and a pencil in his hand.  Irish music plays softly in the background.  His parents are sitting nearby both reading.  The cat is curled up on the couch.  The delicious aroma of corned beef and cabbage emanates from the kitchen. Here is the story Danny is writing…..

Once upon a time in a land far away there was a place full of magic and elves.  The most magical part of all was that only children could see the elves and experience the magic.  Each year on the 17th of March, they gathered at dusk near the stream that ran beneath a tangled grove of alders.  To get there they passed sheep grazing in the meadow and walked beneath clouds all puffed in splendor.  The trail had been forged many years before by the very first children who made their way to the magic spot. 

Once the children had gathered and the last light of day drifted below the horizon, the elves appeared marching up from the stream in single file with tiny sacks slung over their shoulders.  There was one elf per child – never more, never less.  An elf approached a child and without saying a word, opened his sack and gave the child the contents.  It might be as simple as a four leaf clover or as grand as a gold nugget.  Each child put the treasure in his pocket, bowed to the elf, and gave him a flower plucked from the meadow as a small gift of thanks.  The elves then turned and marched single file back to the stream where they remained ‘til next year's meeting.  

The gift each child received protected him from harm for one year and brought comfort when sadness or loss occurred.  The gift also imbued the child with courage to face each day’s challenges.  In the land far away, all children were loved, all magic was true and elves most assuredly existed. 

Once the children were grown, which could be different for every child, the need for the gifts diminished and the children knew they were strong enough to face the world alone.  But the magic was always with them in their hearts. 

The End

“Mom, Dad, do you want to hear my story?  I think it’s pretty good.” 

“Of course, Danny.  Come over here and read it to us.  Your stories are the favorite part of our day.”

Danny stopped and looked out the window.  “I worry about our neighbors.  It seems like they don’t have anything better to do than stand out there and gossip.  I wish they were as happy as us.” 

“So do I son.  Some things are just hard to understand.”

The End


  1. Wonderful story. I can really see this one in my mind. Such a gift today! xoxoxoxo Judy

  2. I'm glad you liked the story. I wrote it as part of Fiction Friday on Open Salon.