The Pixie Jewels Story

She was almost home. The traffic was bad as usual, but another busy day was over. When Deborah turned the key in her front door, she had a sinking feeling. Something was amiss. She got to the kitchen and saw her back door partially open. Her home had been broken into!

She looked around and nothing seemed out of place in the kitchen. As if guided by some insight, she made her way to her bedroom. There, she saw that the top of her dresser was empty! Every piece of jewelry that she had collected during her life was gone! Her jewelry box was still there, laying on its side, empty. She sat down and wept. The heavy gold chain, Christmas of 1993, gone. Beautiful diamond earrings, Christmas 1994. She ticked them off, her precious treasures of a lifetime.

That night, sleep was not easy. When it did come, it was broken, shallow. She sensed fog and a strange glow. In the morning she woke to a sun filled window. When she turned the corner of the bed and saw the top of her dresser, she was astonished! There before her was her very own jewelry box. It was no longer empty, it was overflowing! It was stuffed with necklaces, earrings, and bracelets like none she had seen before. They sparkled, glittered, and made reflected light dance on the walls!

When she looked to her left, she saw something that seemed to be part of a story from her childhood. Beside the corner of the dresser was a girl who stood 8" tall, with wings! Her short dark hair and green garb seemed almost expected. Deborah knew that this must be a Pixie, the playful, mischievous sprite of bedtime stories!

The young waif made a noise that was like a high-pitched question mark. It was almost a mewing sound. When Deborah heard the sound, she knew the Pixie was hungry. She brought a bowl of milk from the refrigerator, and watched the Pixie lap at it eagerly.

After making sure the bowl was licked clean, the Pixie went back to work making more jewelry. This time, she shared her techniques with Deborah. They worked together until Deborah grew tired, and stopped. A short time later, the Pixie left in a cloud of bright, glowing dust.

The next day, Deborah started replacing her lost jewels, her memories, and her heart with things she learned from the Pixie. While the new stone jewelry did not have the same memories, she valued the jewelry even more because it was made by her hand. Friends and relatives started requesting items that Deborah could make. It seemed that everyone who saw the jewelry wanted to own some! After a time Deborah's new hobby started looking like a business. When it became clear that her business needed a name, only one name seemed right. And that my friend is how Pixie Jewels came to be.

From time to time, Deborah is still visited by Pixies. They laugh and play and exchange ideas on the best stones for working. They make jewelry and dance. When the Pixies leave, there are always plenty of empty milk jugs and lots of new jewelry.