Every Voice Matters

By Mir Faraz

Gemma paused. She could’ve sworn she heard laughter – tinkling laughter, like ringing bells. A part of her mind muttered something about strangers, but Gemma brushed that away. Excitement crept up her skin, her eyes wide with curiosity.

Gemma had been playing in the sprawling woods that surrounded her mansion, the way she did almost every afternoon. The woods were her favourite place. She loved being in the company of furry animals, she loved being surrounded by green instead of grey, she loved the sparkling, azure blue river, she loved the

vibrant, breathtaking flora and the tall, emerald trees. Perhaps most of all, she loved that no one but her knew every single nook and cranny of the place like the back of her hand. She knew where the best trees to climb were, she knew where her favourite berry bush was, she knew all the shortcuts and the sunniest spots to read a book. Needless to say, she never got lost. It was her own secret haven. It was reassuring to know that despite how the Earth suffered, there were still some green paradises left. When most people think of woods, they think of the gloomy kind. They think nothing good can happen in them. It was in the woods that Red Riding Hood met the wolf, that Hansel and Gretel found the gingerbread house. But Gemma knew otherwise. These woods were like a familiar friend to her.

It was also a place she thought only she ever visited. So, when she heard that tinkling laugh, she felt intrigued and a bit disappointed at the same time to know there was someone else who shared this mesmerizing wonderland. Gemma’s mental map of the woods popping up in her mind, she expertly navigated her surroundings towards

that tinkling laughter.

It sure wasn’t easy. Suddenly, it had stopped. Gemma sat herself on a tree branch to look around. Had she imagined it? Sighing, Gemma decided to leave. However, a golden light from the corner of her eye stopped her. Looking up, Gemma gasped with shock and disbelief. Where there was previously a mound of earth, was now a tree. But this wasn’t any normal tree – it was grander, bigger and older than all the rest. All the other trees seemed to bow before it, and it radiated an aura of magic. What’s more, this tree had doors. Real doors, windows, and balconies all over.

Gemma was astonished that she didn’t know about this tree. She prided herself on knowing every inch of the woods. She had been certain there was nothing in that spot until a minute ago. Just then, a voice spoke in Gemma’s ear, startling her so she almost toppled off the tree branch.

‘Gemma Jackson!’ It was a high – pitched and jangling voice—the one Gemma had heard. She turned, and nearly fell off again. In front of her was a fairy. ‘COME WITH ME.’ Stunned, Gemma

followed the fairy into the magic tree.

What she saw left her even more speechless — it was a multiple-storeyed, cylindrical building. They were standing in a room that must have been a reception. Gemma’s escort motioned her up a silver staircase that spiralled toward the top. It moved on its own. As they ascended, Gemma took in everything, absolutely transfixed. There were numerous floors—an enormous library, with too many books to count; a fairy hospital; a laboratory; there were also at least three floors with nothing but doors. Gemma guessed these were the fairies’ living quarters. There were too many other floors to name. And everywhere she looked, fairies. They were all miniscule, and they all had translucent white wings that left a golden trail wherever they flew. Another peculiar thing Gemma noticed was that all the fairies wore different coloured dresses, and Gemma could see that fairies with the same colour dress also had similar features — like how all the fairies in green dresses had freckles, or how all the fairies in yellow dresses had a tan, or how all the fairies in brown dresses had huge hazel eyes.

Gemma was beginning to wonder how much longer they would be walking when they came to a halt in front of a pair of relatively tall doors.

‘The Queen is waiting for you,’ the fairy said.

Why did she sound so nervous? Anxiously, Gemma knocked on the door. All the voices instantly stopped. What replied was another jangling voice, like all the fairies’, but this one carried a sense of authority.

‘ENTER.’

This room was grand. It had floor to ceiling windows. The walls were lined with portraits; former queens, maybe. And on a majestic throne, sat the Queen Fairy.

‘Gemma Jackson,’ she said. She looked compassionate, but her demeanour commanded respect. She wore a regal, elegant golden dress that shimmered, and a bright tiara on her head.

Gemma stepped forward. ‘Hello,’ she said timidly.

The Queen Fairy smiled, ‘I know this must be very confusing. Allow me to explain.’

Half an hour later, Gemma understood it all. These fairies were the woods’ guardians, and

they lived here, in the Evermore Tree. Each kind of fairy had a different role – the green fairies were warriors, the blue fairies controlled water, the yellow fairies light, the purple fairies wind. The pink took care of the flora, the orange the fauna, and the brown made the magic dust used to help the fairies fly. The white fairies controlled the Mist, a magic entity that kept the fairies a secret. Humans couldn’t see the Evermore Tree, just a mound of earth.

‘Why did you uncover the Mist for me?’

Gemma inquired.

‘Because, Gemma,’ the Queen Fairy replied, ‘we need your help. We avoid revealing ourselves to humans, but the reason we chose you to help us is because we have been observing you for some time. We have never witnessed a human who cares more about nature than you, thus we believe you are the one who will save our beloved woods. A week ago, your parents came to the woods, with a businessman. I’m afraid they’re selling this land to make factories. They’re going to chop the whole forest down!’ the Queen Fairy said in anguish.

Gemma gasped, ‘No! They can’t do that! What do you need me to do?’ she asked.

‘Gemma, it’s not easy. You must convince your parents to not sell these woods. It’s our only hope!’

Gemma exhaled. ‘You can count on me, I promise!’ And without even another word she raced out the door back toward her mansion. She could not let anything happen to these woods. Eventually, she reached her mansion and skidded to a halt.

‘Gemma!’ her mother exclaimed, ‘I was beginning to wonder where you were! Been in

the woods again? Wait, have you been running?’ Gemma, completely breathless, panted, ‘Mum, you CAN’T sell the woods!! YOU JUST CAN’T!’ She

saw the quizzical expressions on their faces. ‘I overheard you talking,’ she lied.

Gemma’s father, a regal-looking man, boomed, ‘And why is that?’

‘Because I love the woods!’ Gemma said in an

anguished voice.

Gemma’s father glared, ‘And you think that Mr Stone will change his mind because of a mere child? His workers are coming here first thing tomorrow. That’s final!’ and he disappeared behind his newspaper.

But Gemma refused to give up. ‘You have to listen to me! I AM A CHILD, BUT I DESERVE TO HAVE MY VOICE HEARD! The forest is too

important! Forests are the lungs of the Earth, they give us oxygen. If all the trees go, we won’t have any! And the factories that these trees are being chopped down for are just causing more harm! Their fumes are causing pollution, it’s hurting the Earth! And think of all the animals who won’t have a home anymore — IT’S JUST NOT RIGHT!’

Gemma finished furiously, her face ablaze with passion.

Gemma’s parents were shocked at how beyond her years she sounded.

Gemma’s mother spoke, her voice strained, ‘I never thought of that Gemma. How wrong we’ve been.’ She glanced at her husband, who nodded in agreement. ‘We never realised just how big the consequences of this action would be. You’re absolutely right, just because you’re young doesn’t mean you can’t persuade minds and touch hearts. We’re not selling the forest. How could we? It’s staying.’

Gemma jumped for joy, ‘YES! THANK YOU SO, SO MUCH!’ Gemma hugged her parents and ran back to tell her new friends that she had succeeded. That day, there was a massive celebration in the Evermore Tree.

After that, Gemma continued visiting the forest, but this time she would bring her parents along. Sometimes, she would catch a glimpse of a golden trail and would smile. She had proved you were never too young to make a difference.