Sleeping Beauty, the One Who Took the Really Long Nap by Wendy Mass Page B

know, your painting was not that bad.”
    â€œIt was supposed to be the garden below my window,” I replied.
    â€œOh.” Then after a pause she added, “Well, I’m sure you shall be a better cook than an artist, then.”
    I wasn’t. After a full day of plucking hen feathers, marinating turnips, and churning butter, I hadn’t managed to make a single thing that my family could eat more than one bite of. Oh, they tried, to be sure. Papa even had two full bites of the turnip stew before pretending to cough into his napkin. He tried to secretly pass the napkin behind him to a wine steward, but I saw him.
    â€œThese plum cakes are delicious,” Sara said gamely. She had been chewing the same bite for five minutes. Then suddenly her expression changed to one of great surprise and delight. She swallowed, eagerly reached for her cake, and took another bite.
    â€œYou don’t have to do that just to make me feel better,”I said. “I think I let them bake too long. I know they are horrid.” It would have been nice to make a tasty meal, but after all, very few people did something perfectly the first time they tried it. I had worked hard at doing it and had enjoyed trying something on my own. That was enough for me.
    Sara swallowed her second bite and shook her head. “No, honestly, this is delicious. You all have to try it.”
    My parents had already nibbled on their cakes and were highly skeptical of Sara’s claim. The three of us looked at one another and shrugged. We took another nibble. And then another. Before I knew it, we had all polished off our plum cakes and were reaching toward the platter for more. How was this possible? It was like magic. Then it hit me: It wasn’t like magic, it was magic!
    I stood up and turned from the table. “All right, Fairy, show yourself!”
    At first I saw nothing. Then a foot appeared from behind the purple curtains. It was followed by a leg, and then the rest of the fairy. It was the same fairy who had blessed me with the gift of dance. Everyone else hurried out of their seats. We all gathered around her. I noticed Papa had grabbed another cake before leaving the table and was munching on it behind his large hand.
    â€œWhat a lovely surprise,” Mama said, with a deep curtsy. “To what do we owe this honor?”
    The fairy put her hands on her tiny hips. “I could not let Princess Rose create something that was not worthy of her gifts. I had to set things right.”
    â€œI do not wish to be disrespectful,” I said carefully, “but why? Why can’t I do something that isn’t perfect every now and then?”
    The fairy stood at her full height, which was still only about half of my height, and said, “I need not explain myself to you. Fairies’ gifts are meant to be used, not ignored.”
    â€œPlease, Fairy,” Mama said hurriedly. “Rose does not ignore her gifts. Is she not beautiful? Is she not graceful? Does she not sing like a nightingale and dance like a leaf in the wind?”
    The fairy waved off Mama’s comments. “My job here is done. You might want to take your dessert into the library.” With that she jumped into the air and flew right out the window. Unfortunately the window was closed since it was a cold evening. She shook herself off, spit on the windowpane, and it disappeared. She left without a backward glance. The wind whipped through the room.
    â€œTake care of that,” Papa said to the nearest steward, pointing to the empty window.
    â€œWhy did she tell us to have our dessert in the library?” Sara wondered aloud.
    Mama sighed. “I suppose we should go find out.”
    A steward followed us down the long hallway with a tray of cakes and glasses of cider. When we reached the library, at first we saw nothing out of the ordinary. Then Sara suddenly said, “Look!”
    We followed where she was pointing. Where a bookshelf