As told by Maureen
Millie Roseanna is a storyteller. None of the other Pippsywoggins knows this, for she has never performed for them. But Millie knows that she will. Someday.
In her mind she sees herself standing on the elm stump stage at the Butterfly Festival. She is wearing her beautiful butterfly costume that Petunia Belle made for her. She is smiling as she tells stories about Felicity Farrell and Phyllis Fizzell, wee Pippsywoggins from a land just a bit beyond tomorrow and closer than someday.
She is writing the stories now so that when the time is right for her to perform, she will be ready. The little notebooks that lie on the shelf by her kitchen table in the old willow tree are nearly full of tales about the merrisome pair.
Millie Roseanna is very shy and seldom says more than a few words to the other Pippsywoggins. Still, there is something exciting to her about captivating the eyes and ears and minds of an audience by the sound of her words, the flow of her hands and the flash of her eyes. She knows this because she often tells her stories to Frederick the Frog and the other creatures with whom she shares the ancient willow tree.
Millie's house, which is at the base of the tree in a large hollow, has a spacious front porch which leans out over the pond. On warm summer nights, after the dishes are done and the house tidied for the night, Millie often sits on the porch in her rocker and tells her tales to any creatures who happen by.
The animals perch on braches, float on lily pads, or hover in the air as they listen. Millie doesn't know if they understand the words, but they are always attentive. And they always clap, in their own special ways, when she is finished.
Yes, Millie is a storyteller. Someday the rest of the Pippsywoggin community will know that as well. But, for today, Millie knows it. And that is enough.
1997, 2006 by Maureen Carlson