Sophia's Wish

SOPHIA’S WISH

On a chilly autumn evening, the small town of Crooked Creek buzzed with excitement. The annual Winter Harvest Fair was in full swing, and people of all ages in this small farming community filled the town square. Each reveling in the festive atmosphere. The children’s voices could be heard screeching with joy as they rode the roller coaster, Ferris wheel, and other exciting rides. Stalls brimmed with homemade goods, apple, and cherry pies, and corn on the cob. The smell of barbecue filled the fair-goers nostrils. The scent of roasted chestnuts and caramel wafted through the air.

In the center of the square stood a towering, ancient oak tree, its branches adorned with twinkling fairy lights. This old oak had been in place even before the town came to be. Beneath the tree, a mysterious old woman, known only as Madame Azra, had set up her tent. Rumors swirled about her abilities to grant wishes. A line had formed outside her tent, with eager fair-goers of all ages, hoping to have their deepest desires fulfilled.

Sophia, a bright-eyed wallflower teenager with dreams of grandeur, stood at the end of the line clutching a crumpled piece of paper. On it, she had written in her perfect penmanship a wish: “I want to be the most popular girl in school.” As she waited nervously for her turn, she imagined the admiring glances of her peers. Especially, the “popular” girls who had always treated her badly. Envisioning receiving invitations to every important party and so many new friends.

Finally, it was Sophia’s turn. She entered the dimly lit tent, where the air was thick with the scent of incense and burning candles. Madame Azra, with her long flowing silver hair and cobalt blue eyes, smiled and motioned for Sophia to sit.

In a thick Russian accent, Madame Azra whispered, “Tell me, child. What is it that you wish for?”

Sophia sheepishly bowed her head, and hesitated for a moment before handing over the crumpled piece of paper. The old woman read it, her expression unreadable, as she contemplated Sophia’s wish. She looked up at Sophia and said, “Are you sure this is what you truly desire?”

Sophia nodded vigorously. “Yes, more than anything.”

Madame Zara’s eyes narrowed slightly as she leaned in closer. “Be careful what you wish for, my dear. Wishes have a way of twisting themselves into something unexpected.”

Sophia, too consumed by here longing for popularity, brushed off the warning and boldly spoke, “I understand. This is what I want.”

With an audible sigh, Madame Azra took Sophia's hands in hers, closed her eyes, and murmured an incantation. A faint glow emanated from their clasped hands, and then it was over. “Your wish is granted,” she said, releasing Sophia’s hands. With a broad smile spreading across her face, Sophia stood, thanked Madame Azra and almost bounced out of the tent.

The next morning, Sophia woke up feeling different. She could not put her finger on the feeling, only that she new today would be different. As she arrived at school, heads turned, and whispers followed her down the hallways. By lunchtime, she was surrounded by a group of new friends, all eager to be close to her. Invitations poured in, and she reveled in the attention.

Days turned into weeks, and Sophia’s popularity soared. But along with it came unexpected consequences. She found herself overwhelmed by the constant demands on her time. Friends who were once genuine had abandoned her. Telling her she had turned into someone they no longer understood nor liked. Privacy became a distant memory, and the pressure to maintain her new found image was relentless.

One evening, exhausted and lonely for her old true friends, Sophia wandered back to the town square. The fair had long since ended, but the ancient oak tree stood as a silent witness to her turmoil. She sat beneath its branches, head bowed, tears streaming down here face.

She whispered into the night air, “Madame Azra, I wished I had listened to you. My true friends I had for many years have abandon me. I turned away from them for these false friends. I am more lonely that before the wish.”

As if in response, a rustling of leaves caught her attention. She looked up to see Madame Azra standing before her. Her long silver hair blowing in the breeze, looked down at Sophia with a look of understanding from her cobalt blue eyes.

With a slight tone of sadness in her voice, Madame Azra said gently, “I warned you child. Wishes can be fickle things.”

Sophia nodded, her heart heavy with regret, “I just wanted to be happy.”

Madame Azra reached out and gently wiped away the tears from Sophia’s cheeks. “True happiness comes from within, not from the validation of others. Remember that.”

With a wave of her hand, Madame Azra whispered another incantation. A beautiful blue light emanated from Madame Azra’s face, flowing to Sophia. She felt a warm embrace consume her. When it faded, Sophia felt lighter, as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

The next day, Sophia noticed a change. Her popularity waned, but in it place, she found true friendship. Those who valued here for who she was, not her status. The lessons she had learned stayed with her. She carried madame Azra’s warning in her heart: “Be careful what you wish for.”

Years later, Sophia returned to Crooked Creek, a wiser and more content person. The Harvest Fair was in full swing once again, and beneath the ancient oak tree, Madame Azra’s tent stood waiting. Sophia approached the tent. Entering she saw Madame Azra sitting in the same place she had been seated all those many years ago. Madame Azra looked up and smiled, asking, “Sophia are you looking for another wish?”

Sophia, walked toward Azra, sat down, took her hands in hers and said, “ I am not looking for a wish.” She smiled and continued, “I wish to express my gratitude for the lessons that had shaped my life. I remember your warning – “be careful what you wish for.”ul what you wish for.”