The Tiny Magician and the Giant Teacup

Asher was the smallest magician in the whole wide world. He was no bigger than a butterscotch candy, but he wore the tallest purple hat you ever did see—well, tall for someone his size, which meant it reached all the way up to a dandelion’s chin.

Every morning, Asher would stand on his toadstool stage in the garden and practice his magic tricks. He could make dewdrops dance. He could turn ordinary pebbles into sparkle stones. He could even make the caterpillars giggle, which is quite difficult magic indeed.

But there was one spell Asher had never been able to do: the Growing Spell. And oh, how he wanted to be bigger! Just a little bit bigger. Maybe mushroom-sized. Or at least as tall as a teaspoon.

One particularly twinkly Tuesday, Asher was searching through his spell book—which was actually just a dandelion petal with tiny words written in butterfly ink—when a tremendous shadow fell over his garden.

WHOOOOOOSH!

Down from the sky came tumbling an enormous teacup, bigger than a house, bigger than ten houses! It landed right in the middle of the buttercup meadow with a gentle THUMP that made all the flowers bounce.

Asher’s pointy hat nearly flew off his head. “My magical whiskers!” he squeaked. “Where did THAT come from?”

The teacup was the most magnificent thing Asher had ever seen. It was painted with swirling golden stars and silver moons, and it shimmered like it was made of moonlight and birthday wishes.

Curious as curious could be, Asher climbed up the side of the giant teacup. It took him seventeen minutes and forty-three seconds (he counted), but finally he reached the rim and peeked inside.

The teacup was filled with glowing purple liquid that bubbled and popped, sending tiny sparkles floating into the air like happy little fireflies.

“Hello?” Asher called into the teacup. His voice echoed: Hello… hello… hello…

Suddenly, a face appeared in the bubbles. It was an old woman with kind, crinkly eyes and a smile like warm cookies.

“Finally!” she said, her voice like wind chimes. “I’ve been waiting for the tiniest magician to find my teacup. Tell me, little one, what is your greatest wish?”

Asher thought for just a moment. “I wish I could be bigger,” he said. “Everyone always looks down at me. I want to look them in the eye!”

The woman in the bubbles tilted her head. “Bigger, eh? Well, I can grant that wish. But first, you must do three impossible things. Can you be brave?”

Asher puffed out his tiny chest. “I can!”

“Then here is your first task,” said the bubble woman. “You must make a grumpy storm cloud laugh.”

Before Asher could ask how, he felt a tingle in his toes and a whoosh in his ears, and suddenly he was floating UP, UP, UP into the sky, riding on a bubble as big as a beach ball (to him, anyway).

Up in the clouds, Asher found the grumpiest, gray-est, frowniest storm cloud he’d ever seen. It was rumbling and grumbling, preparing to rain on everyone’s parade.

“Excuse me, Mr. Cloud,” Asher said politely. “Why so gloomy?”

“Hmph!” humphed the cloud. “Nobody appreciates rain anymore. They all want sunshine, sunshine, sunshine!”

Asher thought quickly. He pulled out his tiny magic wand and waved it in a loop-de-loop pattern. Suddenly, the raindrops the cloud was making turned into different colors—pink, orange, turquoise, and lime green!

“Look!” Asher giggled. “You’re making rainbow rain! You’re not just any old storm cloud—you’re a PARTY cloud!”

The storm cloud looked down at its colorful raindrops and started to chuckle. Then chortle. Then LAUGH, great big belly laughs that sounded like gentle thunder. “I’m a party cloud! HA HA HA!”

The bubble woman’s voice echoed around Asher: “Well done! Task number two: You must teach a dragon to whisper.”

Another whoosh, another tingle, and Asher found himself in a cave facing a dragon the size of a small mountain. The dragon was bright red with orange spots, and every time it spoke, FLAMES came out!

“HELLOOOO TINY PERSON!” the dragon roared, nearly singing Asher’s hat.

“Oh my,” Asher said, patting out a small flame on his sleeve. “You’re very… loud.”

“I KNOW!” boomed the dragon sadly. “I CAN’T HELP IT! NOBODY WANTS TO BE MY FRIEND BECAUSE I’M TOO LOUD AND BURNY!”

Asher felt sorry for the dragon. He climbed up onto a rock so he could be closer to the dragon’s ear (which was still quite far away).

“Try this,” Asher suggested. “Before you speak, take a deep breath. Think about soft things—like feathers, and clouds, and bunny tails. Then let your words float out like bubbles.”

The dragon looked doubtful but tried it. It thought about feathers… and clouds… and bunny tails… and whispered: “Like this?”

No flames came out! Just a gentle puff of smoke shaped like a heart!

“I DID IT—I mean…” the dragon whispered excitedly, “I did it!”

The bubble woman’s voice returned: “Excellent! Now, your final task is the most difficult of all. You must find something that is lost inside the teacup itself. But here’s the tricky part—you must become even SMALLER to go inside.”

Asher gulped. Smaller? He was already the smallest magician in the world!

But he was brave, and he’d come this far.

Back at the giant teacup, Asher held his breath and jumped right into the purple, sparkly liquid. Down, down, down he sank, getting tinier and tinier until he was no bigger than a freckle.

Inside the liquid was a whole other world! There were tiny castles made of sugar crystals and forests made of tea leaves. And in the very center, trapped under a peppermint stone, was a single golden tear.

“Help!” squeaked a voice from the tear. “I’m a forgotten laugh! A little girl lost me years ago when she grew too serious. I’ve been trapped ever since!”

Asher pushed and pushed against the peppermint stone. Even though he was freckle-sized, he thought BIG thoughts and pushed with all his might. The stone rolled away!

The golden tear floated up, giggling with joy. “Thank you! Thank you! Now I can find my way back to her dreams!”

The bubble woman appeared one last time, but now she stepped right out of the teacup, becoming solid and real. She was tall and wonderful, with robes covered in stars.

“Asher,” she said gently, “you have done three impossible things. Not because you were big, but because you had a BIG heart, BIG courage, and BIG kindness. Do you still want to be bigger?”

Asher looked at his tiny hands. He thought about the cloud he’d helped, the dragon he’d taught, and the laugh he’d freed. He’d done all that while being small.

“You know what?” Asher said with a smile. “I think I’m exactly the right size. Because being big isn’t about how tall you are—it’s about how much good you can do.”

The woman smiled her cookie-warm smile. “That is the wisest magic of all.” She waved her hand, and the giant teacup began to shrink and shrink until it was just the right size for Asher—a perfect little teacup for a perfect little magician.

“Keep this,” she said. “Whenever you need to remember how big you truly are, just look inside.”

And with that, she dissolved into starlight and floated away on the evening breeze.

From that day on, Asher kept the teacup in his garden. And whenever he looked inside, he could see all the impossible things he’d done reflected in the purple sparkles. He never did learn the Growing Spell, but that was okay.

Because Asher knew something better than magic: that the size of your heart matters much more than the size of your hat.

The End

Sleep tight, little dreamers. Remember—you’re bigger than you think.

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• Fantasy and Magical Stories