Quinn is an artist who has lost her way in life. Divorced because she cannot have children, she feels she is broken. Moving back to her hometown of Scallop Shores, she is looking to reconnect with the family she’d pushed away years ago, and rediscover her purpose in life. Jonah is the town handyman and a doting single dad to Lily, a precocious 4 year old. He wants so much more for his little girl, but it’s hard to find a well-paying job when you’ve never learned to read. Tragedy forces the two into a close arrangement and Jonah finally works up the nerve to share his secret with Quinn. She’ll teach him to read, and maybe, just maybe two lonely, broken adults and one little girl who believes in them both, will become the family they all need.
I keep a tiny pewter fairy on my writing desk to remind me of the innocence and wonder that is such a huge part of childhood. When I look at it I think of Lily, the precocious little tot in Drawn to Jonah. Lily’s love of fairies is the glue that binds her to Quinn and eventually helps Quinn to rediscover her passion for sketching.
This little fairy statue also reminds me of my own daughter, and her fascination with the world of fairies. A few years ago a neighbor turned us on to a class given at the local nursery on how to build a fairy garden. I found it especially interesting that there were more women than little girls in attendance.
My daughter set her fairy garden box up in the front yard, where it would get plenty of sun. We spent a small fortune on fairy-size accessories, sure to draw fey crowds from far and near. She made pathways and houses, swings and furniture. She envisioned the most elaborate celebrations going on at night – because that is when the fairies come out to play!
With the help of some fun-loving neighbors, I did my part to help fuel these childhood fantasies. We’d take turns sprinkling glitter (fairy dust), rearranging furniture and causing general mischief. We would even leave behind special little trinkets, like pretty shells, marbles, rose petals or a length of fancy ribbon. My daughter was convinced it was the fairies’ way of thanking her for her hospitality, and how they were making this garden their own little retreat.
This year saw a decline in my daughter’s interest in her fairy garden. I have to say I wasn’t as diligent in remembering to “cause mischief” each night. But I am grateful for the memories we have made over the last three years. I have kept all my daughter’s fairy sketches, just as I am sure Jonah keeps Lily’s. Being able to share in this childhood ritual has put me in touch with my own inner child. There is a whole world of excitement and wonder if we can just remember to keep our eyes and hearts open. I’ll always believe in fairies.
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