MAY 23: Wishes
“Hello, aprons, gloves, toys, books, games, gold fish, party dresses, gingham dresses,” called Fairy Grant-Your-Wishes to the toys and clothes in the children’s big store.
They all called back “Hello.” That is, all those did who were awake this evening and who weren’t so tired that they went to sleep at once.
“What is this I hear that you want?” she asked.
“We all wish we were something else,” said the gingham dress. “I’d like to be a party dress, and the party dress is tired of its ribbons and laces. The gold fish down the aisle wants to be—what is it you want to be, gold fish?”
“I want to be a toy,” said the gold fish.
“And oh,” said a pair of brown jumpers, “I want to be myself. But I want a playmate. I’d like to have a doll, please, Fairy!”
“The doll you shall have,” said the fairy. “I’ll wave my wand.”
As she did so the whole store began to grow and grow, it seemed. Each counter was now like a store in itself and none of the counters were near each other. There were great, enormous roadways between the counters and the things themselves were all different. The gingham dress was now a party dress. It was wonderful how a party dress had been made out of the gingham one, for the gingham dress saw that there was some of the old dress left.
“Oh,” said the gingham dress, now a party dress, “I do want to go to a party now.”
“You shall,” said Fairy-Grant-Your-Wishes, suddenly appearing again. “Every one is to have a complete, whole wish granted this evening. And all of the others will go where they please and be what they please.”
Such a change as there was. The gingham dress, now a party dress, found herself at a great party. There were many boys and girls and they looked at her as she came in the doorway. Oh, how strange and uncomfortable she felt. It was really a most miserable feeling.
“Do we make mud pies later on?” she asked of another party dress.
“Ha, Ha,” said the other party dress, “where did you come from that you didn’t know that at parties such as this we don’t do such things. We couldn’t soil our clothes. I do believe your grandmother must have been a gingham. My grandmother,” the other party dress said very proudly, as she walked off tittering and giggling, “was a Lady Lace and she went to court affairs where my grandfather, Lord Velvet, met her.”
“What horrid, snobbish creatures,” said the gingham dress. “Oh, dear, what shall I do? No one will be friendly with me. I wish I were going to a good outdoor garden-playground party where children and clothes did things so I wouldn’t feel so strange.”
“All right,” said Fairy-Grant-Your-Wishes. “I will make you happy and change you back to what you were.”