It’s not the kind of thing you want to go around telling people; “Hi, my name is Elana, and I believe in fairies.”

In fact, I cringe a little every time I say it, in expectation of ridicule and social backlash.

“Crazy.” “Gullible.” “Foolish.”Ridiculous.”

…all words I’ve grown used to hearing after having shared my story.

So why am I telling you?

When I was in high school my parents let me stay out ‘til midnight on weekends. But, one Friday night I was having so much fun that I didn’t come home until after my curfew, after my parents had gone to bed. 

In order to make as little noise as possible, I decided to sleep on the living room sofa, instead of climbing the stairs and risk waking them up. 

Though I am a woman of faith, I wasn’t raised in a religious household. I was sent to preschool at a church, though, which must have been where I heard about Heaven and why I wondered if my grandpa was there. 

Night after night I lay in my bed after he died asking God to tell me if he was ok.

I didn’t know much about his beliefs, but I knew he was a good and kind man, and if there was a place for those, he would be there.