In a small village, there lived a girl named Lily. Every day, right after breakfast, she would run to a nearby meadow filled with beautiful yellow flowers. She loved to see how later the sun would look like a big yellow flower up in the sky, shining brightly on all the little flowers around her.
One day, a soft breeze blew through the flowers, and they noticed something different. The sun was hiding behind many dark clouds. It grew colder and colder until a big storm seemed to shake even the strongest flowers.
“Whew! I’m glad I’m not out in that wild forest!” said Little Daisy, shaking its head in dismay.
But where was Lily? She had forgotten the time while she was playing and exploring a part of the meadow she had never seen before. Now, she didn’t know how to get back!
“What shall I do? What shall I do?” she cried, looking all around her in despair. It was very lonely, and she had never felt so frightened in her life.
Just then she heard a voice say, “What is the matter?”
“There is so much matter I am afraid I couldn’t tell you in a year. But if you could just show me a way home. I see you have a nice umbrella to keep you dry.”
“Humph!” said a funny little creature that looked like a ball covered with hair, which had gotten blown off the rooftree by the gale. “Just take off your shoes and give them to me, and I will guide you. We’ll keep ourselves dry and warm under my umbrella.”
Lily had nothing to do but obey, for she was so frightened that she was afraid to say no. The little thing held out its arms to take her shoes, although they were quite heavy.
Then it raised its big, fluffy umbrella and set out, leading Lily safely across the fields to the end of the village.
“Don’t let go my umbrella,” it said, “or I won’t know which way to go.”
So she held it tightly, thinking perhaps she would keep it for a memory. The little creature darted from place to place, twisting and turning as fast as they could go, with dark clouds behind throwing all the light out of the sky.
They stopped at last on the nearest cottage doorstep, and the little creature said, “Now you can let go my umbrella. You are at home.” With that it discharged a big sigh, and, plop! it fell flat on the ground.
Lily looked down. Instead of the umbrella, there was a little man all drenched with rain.
“I am the Good Fairy of the Forest, and I give you this to remember me by,” he said, holding out a large emerald to her. In an instant he vanished, and the storm ceased.
Waking the next morning, Lily ran out to the meadow to look for the Good Fairy, but she was never able to find him again, and no one in the village had ever met him. But every time it rained, the little flowers felt sure he was visiting them, for the whole night long their heads were close together, whispering to one another with glee. Then when the little people crept into their hollows to sleep, the good fairy danced from flower to flower, right across the face of the moon, where he was sure to be seen every now and then, particularly on dark nights.