As she slurped on her vanilla milkshake, declared her toastie the best she had ever had and we debated the merits of a splash pool for the fae and their skink friends over Summer, a lovely old gent approached our table outside the bakery. He asked if he could give her something lucky, with an unmistakable sparkle in his eye. He was already anticipating joy.

I explained, perhaps a little too thrilled, that we were just mapping out a new retreat for local fairies. His eyes lit up and he grinned as he reached into an old canvas bag and pulled out this envelope, handing it to her.

She was already ripping it open as she said thank you, my eyes already misting. Kindness always shines up my eyes. Inside was a brand spanking gold coin with a picture of a fairie and her good wishes typed in Word on office paper. It was magnificent. The witchling's face was a picture, her eyes bright and her smile so wide. His matched hers with only the faintest ache around their edges, and he shuffled away to his car.

As she chattered her good fortune and I wondered how long Hilda's seat next to Tom had been empty, Tom returned and handed me a special envelope too with a look that went straight to my heart. Everyone deserves magic, he told me and my throat caught. I couldn't agree more Tom, I told him softly. He squeezed my hand and we shared a stranger moment that left us friends. And then I unwrapped my blessing, with a lucky penny that lets me carry it always.

Kindness and magic have so much in common. They both appear randomly, or so it seems. They arrive in perfect time. Always as a blessing, panacea for heart and soul. With both in abundant supply - no matter what the "real world" says - to those who believe in their existence.

There is nothing more important for a witchling, of any age, to know than this.

Kindness is magic.