Magic

Today, our church hall was transformed into Santa's Grotto. Now, as you know, Santa needs a little helper. Sometimes it's been a teenager. Often it's somebody rather older than a teenager, so long as she's willing to dress up as an elf. Last year it was my friend Tracy, who told the organisers that she couldn't do it this year, but that Margi was dying to, which was true.

I've had very few chances to be a fairy. In sixth form I was the dancing doll in The Steadfast Tin Soldier, which we toured round the local infant schools. It was an occasion for pink tutu, pointe shoes, and cramp in the feet for me, but for those little children I was the real deal. Since then there haven't been a lot of fairy opportunities.

At my age one doesn't expect the chance to wave a wand, but our church is an Equal Opportunities Santa's Grotto, and my wedding dress comes in for all sorts of things. A bit of net makes a pair of wings. A bit of sparkly stuff on a hairband and a knitting needle, and this fairy was ready with her wand. Half the children from toddler group didn't recognise me. One little girl asked me all about what we do at Christmas at the North Pole. Amongst other things, I told her that I take off my fairy shoes and put on big fluffy slippers.

I'd forgotten how much I love dressing up. Next week is story-telling, and I think I'm going to be Queen Christmas, all in red and green.

Hopefully there will be a photo to show you soon, but the wand doesn' work on computers.