The day I found my leprechaun, I was much like anyone lucky enough find a leprechaun, probably not necessarily out leprechaun-looking. However, I suspect that deep inside, my eyes were always open should one ever cross my path. I imagine that most folk likely have half an eye out looking for leprechauns too, and don't even know they are doing it.

That one amazing day began as a rather routine sort of day in the city, far from field, fen, or forest, with my nose to the familiar grindstone. I was employed in a humble techocraft shoppe on the Lake, where a special cake to-do had been arranged that afternoon to celebrate birthdays. You might already know that leprechauns love merriment. On my way to this affair, I was turning a corner when I glimpsed a flash of red hair, and *bump*! "Oh! Hello, I'm a leprechaun!" said the wee creature before me. No, that's not quite what happened, come to think of it. After the collision I introduced myself first, which is precisely what got me involved in this tale, for leprechauns never initiate contact, and as I later found out, disappear once their work is done without ever saying good-bye. I could have, perhaps should have, just said "excuse me," and walked on by. But then there would be no story.

In actuality, I was quite blind as to what manner of being stood before me, since traditional leprechauns don't appear on the sixth floor of Seattle office buildings. I was aware, however, that this was someone of a particular peculiar quality. I held out my hand and we shook, and off to the party we took. I soon discovered during the forthcoming cake, coffee, and small talk, that this merry sprite, full of life, besides having interesting topics of conversation, was quite lonely actually, and naturally enough trying to get back to Ireland. I said finally, "Why don't I show you around this Land O' Green a bit, and perhaps you won't be so homesick before making your way to that far Emerald Isle?"

As forthcoming days came and went in fated fellowship with the leprechaun, there finally grew a gradual dawning in me as to what manner of imp this was. "Weird" it could be termed. Literally ...as in the olde derivation of the werd wyrd (I looked it up), and it was... but also it was as I say, gradual. The little folky's engaging manners and joyous revelries were as innocent, playful, and infectious as any child's. Many an interesting topic of conversation concluded with those wide smiling faces and nodding of heads that arise from shared feelings, like minds, and the rare connectedness of hearts tuned to similar keynotes. Additional clues slowly added up, such as the characteristic leprechaun fondness for smoke, drink, song, travelling, and skipping through the mists, yet nothing was conclusive, as all these seemed fairly normal activities for myself and many people I know. So, indeed, the time spent over the next few days was mirthful and intoxicating - but the final clue wasn't subtle at all.

Feeling heartfelt empathy for such yearning for the "ulde Sod" as displayed by my chum, I extended such hopeful things as I could which might help find a way of return to Ireland. I offered my car to drive, a book to read, and a lamp to see - none which really did much good to cross an ocean, but they seemed useful at the moment. To my amazement, my friend simply responded with an announcement that I would now receive three wishes: one for the hand, one for the eye, and one for the heart. It was at this occasion I finally recognized my puckish companion to have such fairy enchantment naturally occurring in red-haired little-people, and was instantly caught up further in a wonderous spell, still not really completely understanding, nor even caring actually. I only knew how I much I loved the magical moments spent with this being of the most fascinating species of God's creatures. Presently we maundered on together to the sprite's humble hobbit-hole home set on a hillside.

The courses taken by elven spells are tricky, to say the least. I tagged along, conversed in interesting topics of conversation, partook of drink and smoke, and politely shared my own, and all the while admiring the pleasantly decorated abode. We our shared tales of far and away, and tapped our feet to funky beats which came from a small box (it was conventionally plugged into a wall outlet - no real mystery there I guess). Then I spied a small stringed instrument lying in a corner of the small room begging to be strummed. Far removed from the day when I might carry in my pocket a guitar pick, I asked to borrow one, and at last took up the fretted wooden musicbox. More accustomed to pecking at computer keyboards than forming chords out of strings, my fingers were more out of tune than the instrument. With hands trying to remember what once had been second nature to them, I managed to coax out a song about King David, mysterious and inspired by the moment It was then I heard az voice. Rich and beautiful Alleluias, flowed from the leprechaun's throat in accompanyment, recalling a time when music had been my life and dream. In an instant I knew then, that the first wish would be to return to Music.

A great painting on the small wall served as the inspiration for the second wish. Like the guitar, this canvas had also caught my attention as it hung there, humbly tacked up and frameless. Oddly enough, it was painted by the hand of some Irish artist who had once upon a time encountered the leprechaun in Eire. It was simple, dark, and figurative, and profoundly deep and dramatic, much like the affect my art had once aspired to, before electronic clicks and a raster had replaced brushes and canvas as my medium. The painting was enjoyed by any that had seen it, and clearly the leprechaun enjoyed displaying it. Appropriately attached to its provenience a was a traditional doomed Irish love story. Even unstretched and unframed, it was beautiful. It was an obvious choice what should be my second wish: that I would again paint to capture such sentiments in simple pigment and bright brush strokes, and thereby speak to the soul and enrapture people so.

It was an earlier (interesting) topic of conversation which led to the final wish-of-three. By this time however, I had been spending a very enjoyable timeless time, not in any hurry to end the days' pleasantries, but as the sun set, a sense grew out of the twilight that it was not wise to remain in a fairy castle, however low and unassuming, after dark. You see, I had just been explaining to my friend how tedious my new employment was becoming, how I sat and sat day in, day out, and just how I longed to one day renew my pursuit of Taiji, an ancient Chinese martial art of recharging movement, health and vitality. Predictably, the leprechaun responded that Taiji was an art form all their kind was quite masterfully familiar with (further endearing me to it), however a lack of practice on the part of lost leprechauns could make such a one rusty. No doubt I figured, this is why some end up bumping into people and getting stuck granting them wishes. At this point, aware of the time, I hurriedly cast my final wish to regain this third lost talent, and then bid a hasty adieu.

Thus concluded the official period-of-wishing, but not the end of the story by any means. While warm encouraging words from the leprechaun assured me I had made the wisest of choices, at the same time I sensed that my three enthusiastic hopes might be wrapped up, shared, and connected somehow in the charmed life of my magical friend. This astonishing thought sunk deep into my heart.

I chanced upon another occasion soon thereafter, when as the sun again set, and I, duely intoxicated by the company, conversation and strong drink, fell to my knees and said something foolishly human before the leprechaun. "I really must depart now, but ere I take my leave, I must confess something ... You have captured my mind and heart by your person. Such a lover of beauty and life is rare indeed! Let me be your colleague in these endeavors," I said. " for we have such an artful kinship and I could forever be your companion in this light." The puckish elf was rather amused, and quickly embraced me, but sensed the urgency that I must go, and said, "Let us be removed from this place, go and talk further." We then walked outside and followed a path which passed a grove surrounding a great open space - a place surprisingly familiar to me where many blessed events of wonder had occurred in my past - but we continued beyond to a watering hole where we refreshed ourselves. A moment, perhaps two, was spent listening to the bubbling waters play Hendrix, while in the meantime we shared many shy and happy secrets with each other until I took my leave for good that eve. Three wishes had been wished, but one final issue remained which shook me to my bones: that despite the many tales told on why leprechauns were different from humans, including dissimilar lifestyles and tobacco brands, none had convinced me otherwise that we should not be joined closer together by the same weird fate that had sent us colliding. I then left undismayed, and eager for the day I would see my friend again.

After I returned home, almost immediately new strings were strung upon my old guitar, the easel was up and fitted with a stretched canvas, and black velvet Taiji slippers adorned my feet. Soon I began to play, paint, and practice the forms with a Yin-Yang dexterity like never before. Many creative ideas rose from within me, and my hand, eye, and heart were completely recharged by the leprechaunšs enchanting influence, and ever I thought of my muse to inspire me further. While in each other's company, we would sing, read poetry and talk of everything under the sun, while the minutes passed timelessly by. Hexed I was by that spritely smile, but vexed too during such times apart.

Magic comes with a price, and unforeseen consequences always, I was to soon learn. As my focus increasingly grew on impressing my charming monkey paw, little by little I lost sight of who by truth I was. Amid this awakening, it seemed that I still drifted dreamlike futher into the faery realm, where I kept no stock of the world around us, and rather neglected the affairs of my household. Gradually I became surprisingly pretentious, greedily ambitious, and guilty of the very vices that had once in the past diverted me from my present pathway. I was concentrating more on the power conferred by these arts, presumptuously focused on who else I might impress, and who I would share it with, or withhold from it. Forgotten was the joy they held in themselves and their doing. My sensibilities were soon constricted until it was only the leprechaunŒs approval that mattered. I became so enamored with the leprechaun, that all the power of my wishful gifts were given back over to their bestower, even while they themselves dwindled in me. A new fourth wish soon became my greatest passion, and one I hoped to accomplish through my own will and devices: that the leprechaun could be as deeply endeared to me, as as I was to it. Then, I would gain the ultimate gift, I mused - the source of the magical wellspring, which would enable us to share a supernatural life together in leprechaun-land, obliviously enraptured in our new found Shangri-La.

All was well and proceeding swimmingly, or so it seemed to my befuddled brain. Rather I was slowly drowning in fine intentions disguising a lusty pride. Finally, a lightening bolt thought flashed across the skys of my mind one day. It struck me that my gratefulness to the giver was so misled of it's selfish desires, that it was overwhelming us both. "All I really wanted was for my friend to get back to Ireland, not to shackle and chain our lives " I repented, "and for myself to regain such beauty as was possible in my life. Wasn't it already within me, at hand, and given of God? My dear leprechaun has enough challenges without my constant mortal meddling... or the weight of a foolish burden disguised as love. This wonderful summer experience was no doubt a weird and well-timed spark to draw up the fires of the Phoenix in my life - I should be wiser, and leave it at that."

That admission of Providence and recognition of my reliance upon it, as I could generously muster at the time, unfortunatly arrived past its due date. Fate had already befallen. While I sensed a thunder cloud lift from my conscience, at the same time a cold winter descended marking the severing of our bonds. The spell was now broken. In an instant the leprechaun disappeared, although not necessarily gone to Ireland.

The leprechaun had not actually left my life completely. I would still catch faint glimpses of that red hair, disappearing behind a tree or telephone pole time and again, and I could occasionally hear that voice which once enchanted me so. The voice seemed less melodious now, less light-hearted and playful, and rather more serious and heavier. The spell indeed was broken, and it appeared the leprechaun was now deliberately avoiding me. Was this due to some discourtesy to its good nature I had unintentionally committed? Or rather due to such knavery as I had displayed, so I that the kindred bond we had shared I had untethered? Was I now the common ordinary human its kind avoids? But perhaps it was not me at all, but the daemonry itself devised, by selfishly using my malappropriated good intentions to dampen its loneliness for a time, until with renewed confidence, it abandons its host to move on. Or just maybe, it simply serves to tell that if once the dross of selfishness is removed from wishful hopes, with truth uncovered, and talents rediscovered, perhaps then that is magic enough. I never actually understood what happened, or why; whether the purposes were evil or good that, like a dream, this being should enter my life for a spell, then vanish. I only knew that the following days were spent feeling somewhat like a lost puppy, disoriented by the harsh light of the day, seeking to regain past comforts and warm feelings, but finally growing and resolutely moving onwards. Would the promise of the wishes even continue? It mattered not. Gradually I regained the familiar patterns of daily life with a renewed sense of purpose toward my own household. I happily resolved myself to the life allotted me, but still tempered by the sad knowledge that while the life of the wish-magic was still attendant to me, and not yet abated and no less strong, it would continue with a subdued potency. The waters of life flowed more like the hidden tides than a brilliant cascade.

Even with the one particular imp-element now missing, I took solace that the wealth of the experience had made me richer of spirit. Naturally I missed my friend, and that deep connection, for such magical encounters are very rare if they ever occur in a person's life. Memories of the fascinating company and conversations, are still affectionately held close to my heart. Interestingly, as far as I can tell the leprechaun has yet to find its way out of town and back to Ireland, and has probably bumped or stumbled into some new friend; a notion supported perhaps by the fact that the book I had once timely lent, and which was returned unread... was on Taiji.

I sometimes question myself whether or not I chose to write down this story prematurely. I must confess that this which I wrote in one sitting, and in all truth and diligence, does not conclude with an ending many expect from fairy tales. The three wishes have yet to actually manifest such fruit as I initially envisioned. But these are noble human Arts which I have related however, and such Arts which typically mature in the best fashion, with age and practice. Time will tell. Perhaps I should rather have become a writer. Would that be what I would wish for now, I wonder?