Once upon a time there were three little girls: Maurine, LaRue and VaLoris. They lived on a farm in Riverton, Utah with hundreds of chickens, 27 cats, several horses, and a mean dog. Every day they had to help their mother, my grandmother, collect eggs from the chicken coop. Now this might sound fun, like Easter every day, walking around the barn with a basket picking up white or brown eggs from the hay, but chickens sat on those eggs with great hope. Can you just imagine those mother hens thinking, "why are you taking my eggs? They belong to me. I laid these eggs, so nice and round and perfect. You can't have them." So Maurine or VaLoris or LaRue would have to push the chicken aside and grab the nice warm egg quickly before the mother hen could peck their hands.

Besides tricking hens and collecting eggs, the three little girls had many other farm chores to do: picking beans, feeding pigs, and weeding gardens. Could you do all do that work in a dress? Of course not. So the three little girls wore overalls that had long baggy pants with big pockets and straps with buckles that let the pants hang longer on your body as you grew taller. They were made out of heavy, striped material that survived washing, wringing out, line drying, and patching. Overalls never wore out. They could be handed down from sister to sister, cousin to cousin, boy to girl. No problem.

Life on the farm continued in overalls until Aunt Norma came to town. As their Dad's youngest sister, Aunt Norma held a special place in their hearts. She was a woman of the world, she lived in Provo. She taught school. She hated overalls! Wait, what was that? She hated the favorite clothing of the farm. Overalls. She marched right in and told their mother that she never wanted to see her nieces in pants again. They were girls, and girls should wear dresses, not overalls. Oh, my.

Aunt Norma might have been strong willed and opinionated about dresses for girls, but she also understood how hard life was on a farm and how many eggs a farmer had to sell to buy dresses for play and church. So Aunt Norma became the first dress fairy. She bought dresses for Maurine, LaRue, and VaLoris with her teaching money, and then she expected them to wear them daily. I know the overalls were still the clothing of choice on the farm, but when Aunt Norma came to visit, the three little girls always wore dresses.

Maurine, LaRue and Valoris grew up and left the farm. Maurine and LaRue got married and had their own families. LaRue had Shaunda, and Maurine had Patty, Carol and Janet. Guess what happened? Valoris became the new dress fairy. Every Christmas she would buy the most wonderful dresses she could find for her nieces. Shopping at ZCMI and Auerbach's, she bought plaid dresses, blue, red, or yellow dresses. Perfectly wrapped, under the Christmas tree, surprise dresses. Oh the anticipation of having a store bought dress on Christmas morning. Maurine, my mom, sewed constantly to make her three little girls school and Sunday church dresses and we appreciated her efforts, but imagine walking past downtown store windows, looking at the displays and wondering if that most amazing dress would be under your Christmas tree.

Pat, Carol, and Janet grew up, got married, and eventually had their own little girls: Marci, Natalie, Jennifer, Michelle, Shauna, and Emma. For just a little while, Valoris continued as the dress fairy. But she added a new kind of dress, a lacy, ruffled, twirly dress, full of magic. As soon as Marci or any of the girls put the dresses on, they just had to spin and spin, twirl and twirl, the air lifting the skirt up into a full circle. Little princesses dancing to silent music and love.

Now Marci is all grown up, living in Virginia with her own little girls, Tehya and Savannah. Guess who gets to be their dress fairy? Grandma Pat. I buy you dresses of red, pink or yellow, plain or lacy, plaid or striped, but they always have to be twirly dresses. Do you feel the dress magic coming from Maurine to Pat to Marci to Tehya and Savannah. All princesses and daughters of God, with a dress fairy that wraps each special dress with love and a promise: you are special. Please don't forget it.

Love,
Grandma