Introduction:

I wrote what I deemed a children’s book for Mom in 1999 as a birthday gift for her. I can still see the scene so clearly. My husband and Dad left the room to give us some time together. Mom read through the book softly, aloud. She laughed at some points, and we reminisced about the itchy purple polyester bell bottom pants she made both of us. She called me “Miss Snoopy” and recalled my unwillingness to go to bed and many late nights of sewing my favorite Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls for a Christmas surprise. We talked about her favorite holiday, Halloween, and the iconic birthday swim parties. Then she deftly placed the book on her lap, put her hands over her face, and cried, a lot.

I’ve written quite a bit about Mom, and in my writing, I’ve mentioned she was not theatrical, emotional, or a crier. As I noted in my story “Just Grief,” it simply was not of character. When I think back, I noticed this was a common characteristic of her many friends as well, so I came to believe it was that unwavering strength of women of her era that propelled her through the difficulties of life. The “we can do it mantra” held steadfast, and I know she wanted me to be strong, independent, to a greater degree than even she was. So when she cried, I felt like she understood that I understood the sacrifices she made for me, to give me a wonderful, magical life.  

In my original copy, I drew rudimentary figures for artwork. When my own daughter came along and showed a flair for drawing, it was my dream to give it to her and have her illustrate it. Time did what time does and passed at incredible speeds, and it remains devoid of pictures. I wanted to have Magic Maid peeking out of the different scenarios, hence a literal “seek and find.” But what I hope is more understood is the metaphorical seek and find of the story, the selfless love of a mother to her child, and the child’s realization of that steadfast love. 

I still hope to have my daughter work her own magic on this story, and just maybe Magic Maid will live on in my own family. I hope she lives in yours too.

Shelley Burgess Lewis – 2026  

Made by Magic Maid

A Seek and Find book

By Shelley Burgess Lewis

(copyright 1999)

To Mom – My Magic Friend

Our house is a normal house, at least I thought it was normal. I live with my Mom, Dad, my brothers, and a punch of pets.

I guess I should say I thought our house was normal, until I learned of our Magic Maid.

It all started when I began paying attention to what happened every day in my home. Some things didn’t make sense, and some things I couldn’t figure out. Since we went to school all day and Mom and Dad went to work, I wondered what happened while we were gone. It seemed as if the house just kept running itself when it was empty.

I became even more confused when I visited my friends’ houses, and I noticed that their houses were not like mine. Some houses seemed mixed-up.

One night, as Mom tucked me in bed and finished my bedtime story, I asked her about my wonderings, and her reply always came to be the same. She said “Not everyone has what you have, and you always need to remember that. You’re a lucky one. So lucky that you have a Magic Maid who loves and cares for you endlessly.”

I tried to ask more questions but after a cool kiss on my forehead, I was fast asleep. The next day at breakfast, I got more answers.

When I said, “Mom, who made me these perfect pancakes as fluffy as a cloud?”

“Magic Maid did.”

As Mom played with me after dinner, I asked “Who made my bologna sandwich into the shape of a heart for my lunchbox? How do my clothes smell like sweet summer rain? How did we get our favorite matching purple pants?”

Mom took her time to answer me but then she put down her Barbie, winked at me, and said “Our Magic Maid did those things.”

When we sat to eat together nightly, we feasted on best-loved dishes. I never left the table hungry and sometimes no one even noticed I put my least loved lima beans under my plate. There seemed to be an endless supply of melt-in-your-mouth mashed potatoes, thick rich gravy, and roast beef so tender chefs clamored for the recipe. During grace, we always gave thanks for our food, but I thought we should also thank our Magic Maid.

Holidays were really special in our home. Colorful eggs peaked out of many places on Easter morning. Watermelon and summer punch cooled us in July. Crisp clothes patiently waited on the bed for school in September. Witches and goblins helped Halloween arrive and the smell of roasting turkey and pumpkins seemed to last the whole month of November.

On Christmas morning, presents littered our family room floor. Scents swelled from the kitchen all day and my grandma’s china fit for a queen was already set at the dining room table. And there was always a special present for me. Something made by loving hands.

“Whose hands, Mom?”

“Magic Maid’s hands, Toots.”

Birthday parties were really a hit at my house. My friends came and we swam in our lake until our hands shriveled and our ribs turned to gills. Then on the picnic table, we found hot dogs roasted to perfection, sparkling lemonade, and cupcakes as white and light as new fallen snow.

After one party though, everything changed. After my friends thanked my Mom, I slyly smiled and said, “It’s not Mom, it’s my Magic Maid who did these things.”

My friends all started laughing at me. They said I told lies and I got so angry that hot tears boiled in my eyes. But Mom stepped in and whispered in my ear, “Remember, like I said, not everyone has a Magic Maid, and people don’t understand what they don’t know. Let’s keep our secret together.”

While the sun set over the lake that night and Mom and I snuggled on our porch swing, I asked “Will I have my Magic Maid forever and ever?” 

Mom pulled me a little tighter and said “No, Toots. Not forever. You will grow and her role will change, and you won’t need her like you do now. And some day, she won’t be here. But she will love you forever and I hope you feel her forever in your heart.” 

I wanted to ask more questions but with that Mom turned to look into twilight’s first stars and we swayed gently in the warm summer breeze. But when I stole a look at my Mom’s face, I suddenly knew the real secret. I knew my Mom was my magic, and I knew I would feel her forever in my heart.