A Little World of Illustrated Stories
A Little World of Illustrated Stories
Sometimes, the most important characters in stories aren’t invented at all.
Sometimes, they arrive.
Henny came into our lives when my youngest son, Ash, started school in France.
At first, I thought she was simply one of his classmates.
He would talk about playing with Tom, and with Henny, as naturally as anything. It never occurred to me that she might not be real.
Until one day, I spoke to his teachers.
There was no Henny.
No child by that name at all.
Even after that, nothing really changed.
Ash still spoke about her.
She was there at home.
On walks.
In the woods.
“Where’s Henny?” I would ask.
And he would point, or gesture, or simply say, “She’s just there.”
It wasn’t dramatic or unusual to him.
It was just part of his world.
One day, I was unpacking old photographs.
Ash came over, looked at one of them, and said very simply:
“Look, there’s Henny.”
It was a photo of my mum.
She had passed away when I was eighteen.
And in that quiet moment, something shifted.
I’ve never tried to explain it.
Children have vivid imaginations, and perhaps that’s all it was.
But I’ve always held onto the gentle thought that maybe, just maybe, Henny was something more.
A presence.
A comfort.
A familiar feeling in an unfamiliar place.
Because at that time, everything in Ash’s world had changed.
A new country.
A new language.
A new school.
And yet, he settled.
Gently, confidently, as if he was never alone.
Henny stayed with us for a long time.
She came on walks, joined us in everyday moments, and even travelled with us when we went back to England.
And then, slowly, things shifted.
Ash began to say she was outside.
In the woods.
As though she had found her place.
When I began writing The Hidden Magic Stories, Henny found her way in naturally.
Not as something explained.
Not as something defined.
But simply as she had always been.
Present.
Quiet.
Gently guiding.
I don’t think there’s a single answer.
She might be:
Or something else entirely.
Some things don’t need to be fully understood.
Some things are simply felt.
And sometimes, the most meaningful kind of magic is the kind you don’t try to explain at all.
If you’d like to explore it further, you can discover The BooksHidden Magic Stories, where she continues to appear, gently guiding from the edges of the woods.
If you’ve ever had a moment like this, something you couldn’t quite explain, something that stayed with you, I’d love to hear it.
I’ve written a separate post all about Henny, and you’re very welcome to share your own experiences there.
And if you’d like to see where Henny’s story goes next, she will be appearing quietly throughout The Hidden Magic Stories, waiting just there, in the background.