“The girl who collected words”

Little Beth was smiling. After a long walk through the nearby woods, she had made herself comfortable in her favourite armchair, in front of the stove. A crackling fire filled the living room with warmth and the smell of burning logs.

She liked to go outside at twilight to watch that threshold time between light and dark, between the last days of autumn, with its unfolding sumptuousness of golden colours, and the first days of November, which wrapped the landscape in a mysterious, misty coat. She often scoured the countryside for foliage that she would arrange decoratively, with her mother's help, in vases and on the kitchen table.

While she was enjoying that cosy atmosphere and nestling in a woollen blanket, holding a mug of hot chocolate in one hand and a brownie in the other, her thoughts drifted away...

She saw herself spending sunny days of summer with her family on the south coast of England. They had rented a small cottage in Mevagissey; from time to time, friends and neighbours would drop in for a quick lunch or dinner, just to have an easy chat or a spirited conversation while feasting on her mum's delicious cuisine.

Shame that she had not been allowed to stay up late in the evenings, but somehow she had managed to eavesdrop from behind a hedge. She remembered some of the subjects the grown-ups had been talking about. Beth hadn't understood the context precisely, nor did she know the meaning of each word. But remembering some of those words now evoked an uncomfortable feeling in her and suddenly the smile on her face vanished.

"Children fleeing from war ... disorientation ... increasing inflation ... uncertainty..."

She remembered the guests' faces as the conversations had become more serious. The easiness had disappeared completely and fear had sneaked its way into their gathering.

All of a sudden, Beth felt a strong desire deep inside her. She was longing for something encouraging. What could she do to make a change for the better? Would she be able to change anything at all? And then Beth had an idea.

She put down her mug of hot chocolate and went upstairs to her room to look for that little box her grandmother had given her as a present on her seventh birthday. It was wrapped up in beautiful paper based on a design by William Morris, the famous artist and designer, whose work Beth had admired on enchanting wallpaper and bed linen at her granny's house. The paper showed little thrushes stealing strawberries, a scene that reminded Beth of all the happy days she used to spend with her grandma in her garden when she was still alive. So, it was not only a simple box but a valuable keepsake for her. She eventually found it hidden at the back of her wardrobe, among some other treasures she had put there and which she sometimes took out just to look at.

The box was still empty and it seemed to Beth that it had been waiting to be filled. And Beth really wanted to fill it with ... words! Lovely, encouraging words that would put a smile on the face of those who would read them. When she had secretly listened to what her parents' guests had been saying, she had heard so many sad words, and now she wanted to transform them into joyful ones. She was going to write all these "good" words on little slips of paper and distribute them to everyone who needed encouragement. Whenever she came across a new word that she thought would spread hope and confidence, she would add it to the other words in the box.

So, Beth sat down at her desk, took some handmade paper and a pen and began to write the first letters in her loveliest handwriting. Soon, she had written a considerable number of words: joy, comfort, home, resilience, mindfulness, reconciliation, hope ... and, the strongest of all: L O V E.

And while she was writing more and more words, she pictured how the mournful look on the people's faces would change as soon as she gave them one of her little slips of paper.