Have you heard of the wee people? The Irish tell of sightings in the woods and crevices of their fair country. It is mystical sounding and delightful to imagine a little person scampering about beneath the flora. Think of The Borrowers. Wouldn't you love it if they were real? Well, I encountered a wee person this week. You think I jest? Would I make this up? (ahem)
I had just hung up from a cell call with sister Patsy, put my phone in my pocket and carried a box to my bedroom closet to store. As I was reaching up in the darkened room, there was the faintest voice coming from down near the floor. Just a squeak of a voice, barely audible to my ears. A wee person, me thinks! (imagine Irish accent here.) Can it be?!! As I look toward the floor, I hear it again! By this time I'm imagining a little person with red frizzy hair and a peasant outfit (just go with this okay?) Heart is palpitating. . . wee person? . . . wee person? Patsy. Huh? Yes, Patsy. She's in my pocket, saying hello? hello? Who's this?
My phone had not locked and had redialed her! Oh, what a disappointment (sorry Patsy)! I had NOT encountered a wee person after all. But they are there, folks. Some where. Keep your eyes out.