⏱ ~7 min reading
Do you know who paints dewdrops on the blades of grass every morning? Who places those tiny silver beads on the cobwebs that glitter between the bushes? Who puts a drop on every poppy petal, on every clover seed, on every wild strawberry tendril?
This is the fairy Rosinka.
She is no bigger than a bee. She has a dress woven from spider silk, transparent wings with a blue rim, and a silver bag over her shoulder - the same one in which she carries her droplets.
Rosinka lives in a large dewy bell flower that grows on the edge of a meadow. She sleeps in a small bed of mint stalks. And she always wakes up—always!—an hour before sunrise. Because that's how long it takes her to go around the entire meadow and decorate every blade of grass.
A morning without dew is not a real morning. Without dew, the grass stands dry and a little sad. Butterflies don't sit down to drink. Bees can't find a place to dip their paws. When the sun rises, it has nothing to play with - it loves to twinkle in the dewy beads, like in thousands of tiny mirrors!
So Rosinka was very, very responsible about her work.
Every morning she woke up, wiped her eyes with the dew from her own bell, put on her dress, took her bag and went out to the meadow. She did everything in turn. First, the low grass by the path - the dewdrops are small and frequent there. Then the St. John's wort bushes - you have to put larger droplets on them so that they sparkle like candles. Then the cobwebs - this is the most delicate work, because the droplets have to be strung evenly, one at a time, like pearls on a thread. And finally - wild flowers. Poppies, daisies, bluebells, clovers.
When everything was ready, Rosinka sat on the highest blade of grass, crossed her legs and waited for the sun to rise. And then - a golden strip appeared on the horizon, the first ray touched the meadow, and the whole meadow flashed with millions of lights. This was the best moment for Rosinka. She smiled and whispered: "Good morning, sun." And the sun always answered her with a warm golden look.
But then one spring morning, this happened.
Dewdrop woke up, as usual, an hour before sunrise. She crawled out of her bell, stretched herself, and went out into the meadow. Everything went as usual—first low grass, then bushes. And then, when she reached an old stump standing near the nettles, she saw... a little snail.
The snail was still very young. He sat on a stump, stuck out his horns, and looked at Rosy with great curiosity.
"Hello, fake," he said. "What are you doing?"
"I'm hanging up the dew," Rosinka answered businesslike.
"Come play with me," said the snail. "I've never seen a real fairy before. Just this once! I'll show you how fast I crawl.".
Dewdrop wanted to say "then," but the snail had already begun to point. It crawled from one edge of the stump to the other - slowly, steadily, leaving a thin, shiny trail behind it.
"There! See? I'm already on the other side!"
Rosinka laughed. Her laughter was like the tinkling of little silver bells.
"Let's race!" suggested the snail. "I'll crawl along the stump, and you fly in the opposite direction.".
They had so much fun. They ran around the stump. They hid behind a nettle leaf - only you had to be careful, because the nettle stings. They played "catch the horn" - Rosinka flew around the snail horns, and he turned them right and left. They laughed. They invented new games.
And Rosinka completely forgot about work.
When she finally looked up, her heart sank. The sun was already rising! It was already visible from behind the hill as a golden edge! And the meadow—half of the meadow—stood dry. Not a single dewdrop. No silver glitter. No lights. Completely sad.
"Oh!" cried Rosinka. "Oh-oh-oh!"
She rushed to her bag. She flew with all her might. She hung the droplets quickly and quickly. But it turned out badly! Haste is a bad helper. Some blades of grass remained dry, others received two dewdrops instead of one. On a wild chamomile, a droplet rolled and wet the paw of a bumblebee that was drinking nectar - it coughed and was offended. On the cobweb, the droplets lay crooked - like a broken necklace.
Dewdrop flew like crazy, and was about to burst into tears herself.
"I'm a bad fairy! Bad, bad!"
Meanwhile the sun was rising higher and higher. A little more and the whole ray would fall on the meadow, and half of it would be without dew. What a shame! What an unheard of thing!
But something strange happened.
The sun didn't come out right away. It seemed to... disappear. It held its rays for a moment behind the hill. Then for another moment. Then again. As if someone big, big, kind, kind, asked him not to hurry.
And then Rosinka felt a light breath on her cheek. Warm, fragrant, with the aroma of spring willow. It was a breeze.
"Good morning, fake," whispered the breeze. "I'll help you. Give me a little of your dewdrop.".
Dewdrop, with tearful eyes, handed him her bag. The breeze carefully scooped it up with its invisible palms and—furrr—flew over the meadow. The droplets scattered in the air and gently, evenly, and delicately fell on every blade of grass. On every spider web. On every petal. As delicately as only he could.
In three minutes the whole meadow was sparkling again. Silver, even, festive. Everything as it should be.
And only now did the sun slowly, calmly, fully peek out from behind the hill. The beam fell on the meadow - and it flashed with lights, as if thousands of diamonds were scattered.
Dewdrop stood on the grass and cried. Not from pity, but from gratitude. Her tears were small, small, and each of them was also a dewdrop.
"Why?" she whispered. "Why didn't you punish me? I ruined the morning. I was playing when I should have been working.".
The sun smiled - and its warmth touched her cheek.
"Because when you love what you do, little one, the whole world helps you. We see how hard you work every day. Since the first morning of spring. No meadow has ever been without dew. Once is not a bad thing.".
The breeze laughed too, softly, like the whisper of leaves.
"And also," he added, "because we all rejoice when our Rosinka played a little. You're little too. You need to laugh too.".
Dewdrop was silent for a long time. And then she flew quietly, carefully to the stump. The snail was still sitting there - he was terribly upset, because he thought that it was because of him that Dewdrop almost missed work.
"Don't worry," said the fairy, sitting down next to him. "Everything's fine. Tomorrow I'll come play again. But first I'll make all the dewdrops. And then we'll play. Okay?"
The snail moved its horns happily. This meant "of course.".
From that day on, Rosinka was never late again. And she never refused a little game with a snail, a bumblebee, or a butterfly — after all the work was done. Because now she knew: work and joy can live side by side. You just have to do each in its own time.
And she also knew the most important thing. That she had friends. The sun, the breeze, the snail, the nettle, the chamomile — the whole meadow. And if something ever goes wrong — the world will not leave her alone. Because nature has many friends for those who do their job with their heart.
✨ When you love what you do, the whole world helps you ✨