The Wee People

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.