Laughing Lily and The Magic Tree

By Susie O'Donnell

Laughing Lily & The Magic Tree is the story of a little girl undergoing a difficult time in her life. She embarks on a magical journey where she discovers the hero within and learns that no matter how dark times might seem, there is always a light that shines through to guide

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookTrail Publishing
• Release date: Mar 21, 2022
• ISBN: 9781637676394

Book preview

Susie_O'Donnell_-_Laughing_Lily_and_The_Magic_Tree_Front_Cover.jpg

Copyright © 2022 by Susie O’Donnell

Paperback: 978-1-63767-638-7

eBook: 978-1-63767-639-4

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021923926

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This is a work of fiction.

Ordering Information:

BookTrail Agency

8838 Sleepy Hollow Rd.

Kansas City, MO 64114

Printed in the United States of America

Dedication

For my children, all children and

those seeking to heal their inner child

Table of Contents

The Storm

The Musical Tree

Things Are Not Always What They Seem

The Fourth Star Lays Hidden

The Well of Wishes

The Rainbow Bridge

Foreword to Laughing Lily and the Magic Tree

The story of Lily was born on the morning of my 52nd birthday- 7th December 2009.

I had been working very hard using several modalities of healing on myself solidly for about 3 years. I had searched all my life for some understanding of life and self. The most comfortable and enlightening method came through my experiences with Angels, the Kabbalah and The Tree of Life.

Several months prior to the story unfolding I had found a photo of myself age four standing in the garden of the house where I grew up. Reflecting on the photo I found myself back on that day in my childhood feeling the sun on my face and the sweetness of the flowers pervading my entire being. I asked myself why I felt so happy then even though no smile touched my lips. The answer was simple – I felt free and I felt loved. In the next few moments after my reflections I knew I had to paint myself as that child; and so began the journey of healing that child inside that longed to be free and loved by me.

Along with the little girl I also knew the tree that had been such a strong part of my healing needed to be there and somehow predominant in the picture.

I had not painted since my teenage years so the challenge really began. For months prior to this new beginning I had been running a local hall for artists to exhibit. If I had said it once I said it a million times, how much I believed in the power of creativity to heal. It was time to look at my own ability to create once more. The loss of my son through adoption many years before, along with a lack of expression of my own creativity had left me bereft and plummeting into deeper depression time and time again. Art had been such a saviour to me as a child confused by what was happening around me. In my own grief and guilt as a teenager I deprived myself of my one sanctity, a self imposed punishment. I would allow myself to paint again when I found my son and so the bargain was made.

As the painting of myself grew and it certainly did, I found my child looking older than the four year old in the picture and more akin to the child of seven or eight, the time when I really started to dislike myself and grew ever more self critical. Around this time my laughter seemed to disappear.

Then the dream came where I stood before the painting and with one final brushstroke stepped back and said out loud, That’s enough.

I continued to work on my child for some time and as I drew closer to my birthday I felt an urgency to finish my work. The number 52 kept featuring in my dreams often associated with lottery wins it also seemed to keep popping up everywhere– apart from my forthcoming age I could not comprehend what it meant, even though I knew deep within me it had some greater significance.

The eve of my birthday arrived and I had not touched the painting for quite some time even though it was constantly in front of me standing on an easel in my bedroom.

I was just about to retire at about 10pm when I noticed something in it I