Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • A few years ago I read an article about the mythology of street children, about the stories they made up to make sense of their world. Each night, they tangled with demons, spirits, and other metaphysical beings. The angels lived in the street lamps that flickered to life at sundown. "They eat light so they can fly," one of the children told the reporter.

    My Christmas has long been stripped of its mythology, but this year I had the privilege of spending the holiday with a family for whom the magic is still real. Two little girls showed me the gifts Santa left behind for them, which included a set of fairy dolls. The dolls glowed from within and changed color with the wave of a magic wand. "Close their eyes," they said, and I did, and when I opened them again, the dolls had changed color. Orange to red. To blue. To pink. The novelty persisted through the night. Again. Again. I took a picture.

    Going through these photos now, I'm reminded of that article. Of that quote, specifically, which I haven't been able to shake from my head, for years now. There's a connection here, but I'm not sure what it is.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.