Auntie Mae knew everything about flowers. When the little girl visited her, she would tell her their names and what kinds of light made them happy. Sometimes, when they strolled through Auntie Mae’s colorful garden she would talk to the flowers, asking them how they liked last night’s rain and if they had heard that oriel singing this morning.
One day when the little girl stopped by to visit Auntie Mae, she found her sitting on her front porch steps doing a fluttery kind of dance with her fingers. When she got closer, the little girl stopped in her tracks, her eyes wide open. A dozen buzzing bees were flying in and out between Auntie Mae’s fingers.
“Auntie Mae! What are you doing! Aren’t you afraid of those bees?”
“Oh, no!” Auntie Mae laughed. “They’re my friends, and I’m dancing with them. C’mon; they won’t hurt you. See? I put dabs of honey on my fingers to invite them and then they come and play.” She let the little girl watch the dance for a couple of minutes, then she shooed the bees away, telling them that was all for today. She went inside to wash her hands while the little girl sat on the steps. Then the two of them strolled through the garden.
When they came to the big-leafed plant in the shady corner, the little girl pointed to its trumpet-shaped flowers. “What are those called, Auntie Mae?” she asked.
“Most people call them ‘hostas.’ But that’s not their true name. Their true name is a secret. Shall I tell it to you?”
“Oh, yes! Please tell me, Auntie Mae.”
“They are fairy hats,” Auntie Mae said in a quiet, confidential sounding voice. “When the moon is sailing high in the sky and all the children are asleep, fairies come and take them from their stems to wear as hats while they dance their fairy dances in the starlight. When the dances are through, they hang them back on their stems and the dew comes to clean them.”
“How do you know that, Auntie Mae?” the little girl asked. “Have you ever seen them?”
“Only once,” said Auntie Mae, “a long, long time ago. But oh, what a beautiful sight!
“The bees tell me they see them dancing all the time, right around midnight. Maybe some night we can sneak out together and sit very quietly under that tree. The bees say that they dance around that circle of clover over there.
“If we do sneak out, though, and if you see them, you must promise never to tell anyone until you are at least eighty years old. And even then, you may tell only one little girl. Do you think you could do that? Could you keep the secret?”
And of course the little girl crossed her heart and promised. And that night, the two of them snuck out of their beds and sat in the moonlight under the great old tree watching fairies dance.