Introduction.
There is a land, far, far away from wind and clouds, where all things paper live.
It is hidden from sight from non-believers, and people with no creative talents.
It is also hidden from sight from all those people who cannot read a book, or tell a story anymore, while they only believe what they see on television.
Only if you are a very special person, you can see this land behind the clouds.
And you have to be even more special to be able to get in.
But let me tell you a secret; but hush, is there nobody who can hear us?
The people, who live there, sometimes come out too!
How do I know?
I have met one of them. And later on I did meet some more of them, while I did believe what my eyes did see, and while I do like reading and while…
Well, may be that part I will tell you later.
Let me first introduce you to my friends from that far, far away country.
The people who live there just call it Homeland.
In that land you can find anything that is over here, too. It only is not so mixed up: everything has his own place and surroundings.
Oh, do you want to know how that is possible?
You will find out while I am telling you about the people I met, and what they told me.
And what they told me I could tell to you.
Why? Because that is such a secret place and they want to keep it that way.
Was that once upon a time something different then? Yes it was.
And that was when I, for the first time met Cindy, a little girl with curly red hair and at that moment, scary eyes.
She came into my bedroom right through the mirror while I was busy doing some drawing.
I remember it was a drawing of a dark forest and I just was thinking: ‘Is that not scary? Should I not put in some sun between the branches or some colorful flowers under the trees or…’ and BOOM, there came Cindy running through the mirror.
There she was: droplets of sweat fell from her cheeks, the curls were tangled with pieces of wood and leaves, her lovely dress a total mess. Her breath was coming in short bursts as if she had run to escape something.
“Who are you” I did ask her.
“And how can you come out my mirror without breaking it?”
“Pho, please, let me first take a breath and sit down.
And would you please turn your drawing with the white side up?”
I did not understand why, but it sounded so urgent, my hands were doing as she asked before I realized it.
“That’s better” Cindy said.
“Now we have time to talk and learn to know who the other is.”
She sat down on the end of my bed and her shoeless feet dangled idly over the edge. There was grass and some leaves all around her as if she had taken it from wherever she came; and in my mind there came more, and more questions.
So with my head a little bit sideways I asked again, “ And who are you?”
“I am Cindy and I do live in Homeland. But now there are some strange things going on over there so I had to run for them. I was lucky to see your drawing of a forest standing between the doorway to your country and mine. So I did hide in there. Thank you for not yet drawing the sun or the flowers or a very open space, otherwise they had captured me!”
“My drawing? A doorway between your and my country? And a mirror? I do not understand one thing of what you are talking about! Can you tell me more? This sounds so curious!”
“Well, if you please can give me a drink of water so I do not get harsh from telling, I will try.”
So I did give her the drink and sat beside her to listen. At that moment a friendship started that is there till now. So I will start the story she told me that evening.
© Nan van Daalen, all rights reserved
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