"Some day you will be old enough to read fairy tales again." - C.S. Lewis

I can't remember when I first heard a fairy tale, but as a child, I distinctly remember spending hours listening to records of Cinderella and Jack and the Beanstalk and Little Red Riding Hood. I remember seeing a production of Hansel and Gretel and watching the Hans Christian Anderson film starring Danny Kaye. As a teen, I read fairy tales for diversion while babysitting the Cohen boys: I'd put them to bed around 8:00 or 8:30 p.m., and then there was nothing to do until 2:00 or 3:00 a.m. but to clean house, listen to musical sound tracks, or read the volumes of Grimm's Fairy Tales that lined the book shelves. I did plenty of all three, but the fairy tales especially stick in my memory.

Fairy tales seem to follow of a formula of sorts, one that appeals to the fairness of young minds and hearts. Such tales hold out the hope that good eventually triumphs: The kind Cinderella wins her prince, while the wicked stepmother receives her comeuppance. Poor, gullible Jack finds a way to support his mother, proving his cleverness and courage. Hansel and Gretel use their resourcefulness to survive their abandonment and are united with their loving father. A noble hunter comes to the aid of Little Red Riding Hood at the scariest hour.  Of course, without trouble and struggle, there would be no story, but there's security in the happy ending where all wrongs are magically righted.

As adults, we dwell in the real world: Life is cruel and often unfair. Many times there are no happy endings, only choices between the lesser of two evils. We become cynical and distrustful. Sometimes we scoff at the simple faith with which a child clings to his or her idealism: Such childishness is beneath us. We belittle ourselves for having hoped in something better and for having played the fool, for that's what we think we become when our hopes are dashed.

Yet C. S. Lewis asserts, "Some day you will be old enough to read fairy tales again." In other words, despite the disillusionment with the current world order, we will finally come to realize the truth of fairy tales: We'll again embrace the hope that goodness receives its just reward, that help comes to those who persevere in such belief.

Surely the faith of C.S. Lewis (1898-1963) underlies this philosophy. An atheist for much of his early career, he finally came to acknowledge and know God, partly through the works of George MacDonald (1824-1905, author of the children's fantasy novel The Princess and the Goblins) and partly through his friendship with J. R. R. Tolkien (1892-1973, author of fantasy novels The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings).

I'd like to think of myself as old enough to read fairy tales again. Though I've struggled with disillusionment and cynicism at times, I have always circled back to embrace the Almighty God as the source of all goodness. I believe in divine intervention and redemption. I stubbornly hope for happy endings. Am I crazy? Some would undoubtedly think so. I say, "Lord, help their unbelief!"

I think what I'd really love to do is to write fairy tales. I can't claim to be a literary giant like C.S. Lewis or J.R.R. Tolkien, but I can try nonetheless. The Begetter Tales dawned upon me slowly. The stories began to weave themselves together around 2008, when my first granddaughter was born. I thought of them first as bedtime stories about another land. Slowly, piece by piece, a novel emerged: Penny and the Seer's Ballad. The inklings of a trilogy started to take shape (Penny and the Song of Seven and Penny and the Beggar's Chant), but then I was distracted by the rich Legends from the Land of Hoi. The fairy tales of Hoi take time to form, but each tale brings me a warm and happy feeling when I finish writing it.

Will my stories ever be published? I can only hope. Maybe not in my lifetime--but I'm nonetheless inclined to believe in happy endings.