Violet Briggs was yelling at a toad. The toad hopped away from her. It held a large marble in its mouth.

It was Violet's favorite marble. The best one in her collection. She was in her back yard, playing with the marbles. Then the toad came. It picked up the marble and hopped away.

"Come back here!" Violet yelled.

Violet chased the toad. It hopped across the green grass. Violet reached for it. She almost had it...

Hop! It landed on a rock.

Violet reached again.

Hop! It landed in a patch of yellow buttercups.

Violet tried to grab it...

Hop! The toad landed on the roots of an old oak tree.

Violet stopped running. She got down on her knees. The damp grass soaked through her jeans.

The toad sat still on the roots of the tree.

Slowly, Violet crawled to the toad.

"I don't want to hurt you," she whispered. "I just want my marble back."

Violet held out her hand. She was so close! She could almost touch the toad's brown, bumpy skin.

Hop! The toad hopped right into a hole in the tree trunk and disappeared.

"No!" Violet cried. She looked inside the hole.

A face looked back at her.

But it wasn't a frog face. In fact, it wasn't the face of an animal at all! It was the face of a tiny person.

Violet jumped back. The tiny person flew out of the hole. He floated in the air in front of Violet's face.

"Hello there," he said.

Violet tried to speak. But she couldn't. Not yet. She stared at the tiny creature.

He was about as tall as a pencil. He had green eyes that were tilted up a little bit. He had pointy ears. His skin was pale, pale green. And his hair was a very light yellow.

Violet thought his clothes were made from leaves. But the most amazing thing about him was his wings. They shimmered in the air. They looked like they were made of rainbows.

"I said, HELLO!" said the creature.

Violet closed her eyes. She must be seeing things.

Violet counted to three.

The creature was still there.

"Are you all right?" he asked. His wings fluttered around her face.

"Are you a fairy?" Violet whispered.

"Yes," said the fairy. "They call me Sprite."

"I'm Violet," she said quietly.

"Are you eight years old?" Sprite asked.

Violet nodded slowly. How did he know that, she wondered.

Sprite grinned. He held out a large marble. "I think this belongs to you."

Violet didn't move. Was she really talking to a fairy? Could it be real?

She looked at Sprite carefully. There were no wires or strings holding him in the air. And he was solid, like a real thing. Not see-through like a cartoon character.

He must be real.

Violet slowly took the marble from the fairy's tiny hands.

"Thank you," Violet said.

"I'm glad I could help," Sprite said with a bow. "And now I need you to help me!"

"Me? How can I help you?" Violet asked.

She knew about fairies. She had read about fairies who gave out wishes. But she had never heard of a fairy who asked for help. Especially from an eight-year-old girl!

Sprite flew right up to Violet's face. His wings tickled her nose.