#childrensstories

I'm obsessed with all things fantasy and I'm convinced I was never meant to be human. So naturally I love fairy lore and the Disney fairies of Pixie Hollow do it best. So I scoured the internet archives for the Pixie Hollow fairy books I didn't have access to and what did I find? This masterpiece that brought me to tears and confused the hell outta me.

Once upon a time, in a deep, rustling forest, there lived a little squirrel who could never rest.

Even when the trees were heavy with food and her hollow was filled with acorns, she worried there still weren’t enough. So she scurried and gathered and stuffed her cheeks, always chasing just one more acorn, just in case.

One morning, she wandered farther than ever before, her tiny paws padding past fallen leaves and whispering branches—until the trees disappeared entirely, and the world opened into blue.

Before her stretched something she had never seen: the sea. It was vast and sparkling, endless and alive. Waves rolled in with a hush and a splash, brushing the shore as if to sweep away every worry in the world.

The squirrel climbed onto a gray rock to get a better look. But just as she settled in, the rock began to move.

It wasn’t a rock at all. It was a sea turtle.

He blinked slowly at the squirrel, surprised but not alarmed.

“I’ve never seen a squirrel by the sea,” he said.

“I’ve never seen the sea,” the squirrel admitted, “but I think I like it.”

And so, on that sunny morning, they became friends.

They had picnics on the shore—acorns and seaweed, fish and foraged berries. They told stories: the squirrel spoke of windy treetops and the hush of snow, and the turtle spoke of coral caves and moonlight on the waves. When evening came, they curled up inside an abandoned sandcastle built by children, watching stars blink into the sky.

The turtle asked, “Why do you collect so many acorns?”

“For winter,” said the squirrel. “I must be ready.”

The turtle thought for a moment. “I don’t collect much. I just eat when I’m hungry.”

The squirrel had never considered such a way of living.

The next day, she returned to the forest, her paws still sandy and her heart full. But even as she gathered more acorns, her thoughts drifted back to the sea. From time to time, she visited again, and every time, the turtle was waiting.

Seasons passed. The turtle learnt to store and dried fish in the sun for their visits. The squirrel brought fresh acorns in her cheeks. But as autumn crept in, the sea turned cold, and the chilly wind swept their sandcastle away, grain by grain.

One chilly morning, the squirrel wanted to visit. But the coldness made her tired, so heavy that she had to stay curled in her nest, surrounded by acorns she no longer cared for. Winter had arrived.

Far away, the turtle missed her.

He still had one acorn saved from their last picnic. He dug a hole in the sand and planted it gently.

“Maybe,” he whispered, “if it grows, she won’t need to worry so much anymore.” The turtle waited and watched for it to grow day by day, until a thick layer of ice sealed the sea.

Now, oak trees don’t usually grow on sandy shores. But that spring, something magical happened.

A single green sprout poked through the sand. Then leaves, then branches, and soon a towering oak tree stood proudly by the waves. Its trunk was wide, with cozy hollows just the right size for a squirrel. Its branches were full of shiny acorns.

The squirrel returned that spring, blinking in disbelief.

The turtle smiled. “I saved your acorn.”

And that was all she needed.

From that day on, the squirrel lived by the sea. She no longer counted her food or feared the snow. She played in the tide and napped in her tree. She and the turtle watched sunsets and gathered acorns for fun—not because they had to, but because they wanted to.

And so, the squirrel and the sea turtle lived side by side,

In the abyss there was nothing but water. The ocean, a wild beast few could tame. Men and woman set out, they dared to set sail on her waters, only to lose their lives to her salty waves. The Athena was no stranger to the sea, and neither was her Captain. The loss of this mighty ship, her crew, and what she carried would surely be spoken of. ¿But was it remembered at all?

Dark clouds loomed on the horizon. The smell of rain from the distance. Paired as one, darkness shadowed the Athena. Arches of blinding white struck the waters below. The ocean, an inky black could swallow one whole, only to become a drop in the endless sea. The Athena – her hull of wood and iron – swayed with the waves. Her crew’s quiet pleas for good winds and calm waters, swiftly dashed as they watched the light fade from day. In an instant the sea turned on them. A light breeze into an angry gust. Rain came down from the sky in sheets. A darkened fog rolled in.

Their Captain yelled over the thundering wind and beating rain, “¡Tie the sails, tie everything down!” Icy dread coursed through their veins. The men shared a single thought. If the storm blew them off course; they would surely be lost. However it was not for the winds they should fear, but for the rising waves. Grew in height and crashed against the sides, repeated with a rhythm only the gods could understand. Each time water spilled over the deck, threatening to bring the ship down to a salty death.

Their Captain rushed to take control of the traitorous whipstaff. Years of sailing, of worn hands, and callouses prepared him. He grasped it and tried to turn the tides. The waves too tried to steer the Athena, but her Captain wouldn’t give in. Her crew scattered across the deck. Men woke from their slumber just to join the rest. Together, they drudged water from the ballast. Only for the sea to spill more than they could pump. Their Captain stared into the chaos with hardened eyes; the storm grew. Static heavy in the air. Orders called out. They would make it, their Captain wouldn’t settle for any less.

“¡Land!” Yelled the boy still in the crow’s nest. But time for celebration this was not. A large wave towered over the Athena. A wall of water dwarfing the ship. Her men held their ground and braced for impact. The wave it draped over her and the Athena creaked under its weight, pulling her under. But like the first light of day after a long night, she rose and broke through the surface. Salt stiffen her crew. They promised with little doubt in their minds, they would see this storm to its end.