Her hair was beautiful. The Fairy loved to look at herself in the dew; the purple sparkles all over the body always took her attention. She thought that their shiny light was magical, and the Fairy admired magic.

They lived in the deep, deep forest, the civilization of the little marvelous creatures. They healed animals and trees, protected gardens, neutralized traps, sang lullabies to the youngest beasts and did a lot of other work, which no one knows about. And they were happy, those little magicians. Truly happy.

The only sadness was that every winter fairies had to leave their lives. With the first snow they gave up the sparkles, went to their favorite tree and fell asleep, to never wake up again. Forever and ever, generations of fairies changed, having only spring, summer and fall to live. The winter was too cold, too hard to survive so they decided to sleep in snow, giving all the power to the future ones.

And times past, the life was established. Fairies were ready to go to sleep once again. And with the first snowflakes, they went to the trees.

But her hair was beautiful. And isn’t it sad – to give it up? Laying in the shade of birch, the Fairy was thinking. Little white sparkles were flying around her face, airy dancing, singing their song of grace. The Fairy remembered the smell of fresh grass – her first home, the rays of the sun in the lake, those evenings with her friends, and oh, the lullabies, lovely lullabies that she sang to the birds.

Little tear dropped, disappearing in the snow. The Fairy was cold and cold was in her heart. She was so sad, so broken. Her eyes started to close. It was the end… or?..

The Fairy was too scared to sleep. Her heart rambled, the eyes abruptly opened. The light of life was burning into them. And freezing, she pushed her body out of the snow. The purple hair was still beautiful. And lonely, scared, our little Fairy smiled.

She was alive.