Blue Fairy Quotes

“Pariva was a small village, unimportant enough that it rarely appeared on any maps of Esperia. Bordered by mountains and sea, it seemed untouched by time. The school looked the same as she remembered; so did the market and Mangia Road---a block of eating establishments that included the locally famous Belmagio bakery---and cypress and laurel and pine trees still surrounded the local square, where the villagers came out to gossip or play chess or even sing together.
Had it really been forty years since she had returned? It seemed like only yesterday that she'd strolled down Pariva's narrow streets, carrying a sack of pine nuts to her parents' bakery or stopping by the docks to watch the fishing boats sail across the glittering sea.
Back then, she'd been a daughter, a sister, a friend. A mere slip of a young woman. Home had been a humble two-storied house on Constanza Street, with a door as yellow as daffodils and cobblestoned stairs that led into a small courtyard in the back. Her father had kept a garden of herbs; he was always frustrated by how the mint grew wild when what he truly wanted to grow was basil.
The herbs went into the bread that her parents sold at their bakery. Papa crafted the savory loaves and Mamma the sweet ones, along with almond cakes drizzled with lemon glaze, chocolate biscuits with hazelnut pralines, and her famous cinnamon cookies. The magic the Blue Fairy had grown up with was sugar shimmering on her fingertips and flour dusting her hair like snow. It was her older brother, Niccolo, coaxing their finicky oven into working again, and Mamma listening for the crackle of a golden-brown crust just before her bread sang. It was her little sister Ilaria's tongue turning green after she ate too many pistachio cakes. Most of all, magic was the smile on Mamma's, Papa's, Niccolo's, and Ilaria's faces when they brought home the bakery's leftover chocolate cake and sank their forks into a sumptuous, moist slice.
After dinner, the Blue Fairy and her siblings made music together in the Blue Room. Its walls were bluer than the midsummer sky, and the windows arched like rainbows. It'd been her favorite room in the house.”
― Elizabeth Lim, When You Wish Upon a Star

“And each fairy is represented by a color?" Chiara asked.
"My favorite color was always violet," Agata said, "and Mirabella's gold. They started off as nicknames, but they seem to have stuck."
Peri, the Orange Fairy, stepped forward and offered her a friendly grin. "Blue is available, in case you were wondering. Agata told us it's your favorite. We sense the color's been waiting for you.”
― Elizabeth Lim, When You Wish Upon a Star

“How can we help them?" Chiara asked.
"For a start, we help them listen to their conscience."
Conscience. Agata had used that word before, when they'd first met.
"I mentioned before that you have a strong sense of empathy, Chiara. It keeps you attuned to how others are feeling and gives you your compassion. Something all potential fairies must exhibit, for it is our empathy that keeps us from being cold and merciless like the Heartless.
"But what I also noted was that you have a proverbial conscience as well, Chiara. Empathy without a conscience is like living with only half a heart. Your conscience is what motivates you to act. It is our compass, guiding us in the direction of doing what's right.”
― Elizabeth Lim, When You Wish Upon a Star

“A tingle shot up Chiara's spine as she grabbed one end of Agata's wand. Power coursed through her and out the wand, joining with the other fairies' magic.
What was more, as she held Agata's wand, she could feel the fear and awesome wrath coming from Monstro. It was a taste of wild power, so intense and strong she felt she could do anything with it.
Now she understood why Monstro was so valuable to the Heartless. His wrath was never-ending, and it took little effort for her to sense that his wells of strength were immense.
Chiara pushed Monstro's power aside and focused on Agata's instructions. She was supposed to wield the wand while thinking of her fondest dreams. She thought about all the mornings she had spent with Ily, making music together, making messes in their parents' bakery kitchen, tossing pistachio cookies and chocolate cakes at each other.
Was it her imagination, or did a stream of pale blue magic course out of Agata's wand?”
― Elizabeth Lim, When You Wish Upon a Star

“Chiara gasped as her mentor passed her the wand, and a small star appeared at its tip. It should have warmed Chiara's heart to see it, but she could barely muster a smile.
"The reception of a fairy's wand is often a bittersweet occasion. Let that be a reminder for you that magic can bring great joy as well as sorrow, hope as well as fear. May you use yours to shine light upon darkness."
"I will," Chiara vowed.
As soon as the words left her lips, the star on her wand came aglow and a pair of iridescent wings bloomed from her back.
"What name will you take, Chiara Belmagio?"
The answer was one she had toyed with ever since she'd considered the fairies' invitation. "The Blue Fairy."
Blue was the color that brought her joy. The color of the walls of the music room where she and Ilaria had spent countless hours laughing and chasing each other and making music; the color of her father's eyes, like hers; the color of the sea where she and Niccolo took their little boat out when the weather was fair.
Her dress shimmered with stardust. The pale color deepened into a warm and rich blue, and the fabric softened into gossamer silk. The threads stitched themselves into a gown worthy of a good fairy, turning her long sleeves into iridescent swaths of starlight. A beautiful yet understated uniform. Perfect for the new fairy.
Only the ribbon she wore in her hair was the same as before. A reminder of Chiara Belmagio, daughter of Pariva.”
― Elizabeth Lim, When You Wish Upon a Star

“The dove she and her sister had enchanted to life suddenly soared back into the room and perched on her shoulder. Chiara marveled at it, both joy and sadness heavy in her chest. The dove stroked her hand with a comforting wing, and Chiara touched it gently. She knew she ought to turn it back into a wooden figurine as before---those were the rules, after all. But she couldn't, not without Ily's help. And truthfully, she wasn't sure if she wanted to.”
― Elizabeth Lim, When You Wish Upon a Star

“With the last of my magic, I pledge to help Pinocchio become a real boy." She extended her hand to Chiara. "You remember what happened when our magics came together and struck your dove?"
As if on cue, Chiara's white dove flew past them and landed on Ilaria's arm.
"She came to life," Chia murmured. "Thanks to the two of us."
"It takes two to make miracles happen," said Ily. "Will you do the honors?"
Taking in a deep breath, Chiara nodded, and together, hand in hand, the sisters approached the lifeless Pinocchio.
Prove yourself brave, truthful, and unselfish, and someday you will be a real boy. She touched her wand to Pinocchio's head. "Awake, Pinocchio. Awake."
Magic brimmed across the young boy's still body, bringing him to life. His cheeks turned rosy, and his wooden nose became one made of flesh, the nails in his knees and elbows turning into joints and bone and muscle. Gone were his donkey ears and tail.
"Papa!" he spoke. "Papa, I'm alive!"
Geppetto rose from the sand, unable to believe his ears. But when he saw his dearest Pinocchio a real boy, his tears of sorrow turned to joy. He scooped his boy into his arms. "My son," he whispered. "You've come home."
Chiara watched them, her heart full of relief and gladness. This was what made her love being a fairy--- the tender moments of joy, the proof that hope was never in vain.”
― Elizabeth Lim, When You Wish Upon a Star

“As Jiminy hopped away, the Blue Fairy spun her wand for one last spell before she tucked it away for a year. In her mind, she conjured the smell of cinnamon and pistachios, of chocolate and buttery sugar. A modest plate appeared on her palm, and she inhaled. "Just like home," she whispered to herself.
With a wave of her arm, she let go of her wand and made for the humble two-storied house with a yellow door. A lemon or two still hung from the trees brushing against the back window, and a bittersweet pang overcame Chiara's heart. It squeezed inside her, filled with excitement and nervousness and wonder.
When she found her courage, she knocked.
At first, she didn't think anyone heard. Then from inside, Niccolo's wife shouted: "It's the girls! They must be back early!"
Footsteps approached, and Chiara held her breath. Niccolo himself answered the door, and let out a gasp.
The expression on her brother's face was one she would treasure all her life. Joy and surprise flooded his eyes as years of forgotten memories came back to him. When he finally cried her name, his voice choked with emotion. "Chiara?"
"I know I'm a few years late," she said, finally letting go of her breath. She smiled at her brother. "But is there room for one more at dinner tonight? I've brought cookies.”
― Elizabeth Lim, When You Wish Upon a Star