Once upon a time, a little girl discovered a secret. She stood a stool on a chair on a box and climbed on top of the whole teetering pile. Reaching up, she teased a book from the top of the bookshelf with her fingertips, and clutched it to her as she climbed down. She took it into the light and blew the dust from its cover, and as the dust flew into the shaft of light, she saw something that changed her life. That dust wasn’t the normal kind of dust – as it floated and glittered in the light, she knew that it was the sign of something magical. It was fairy dust, and it meant there was a fairy in the book, reading and loving the story, bringing it to life, crying with the characters who are lost, afraid with the girl alone in the woods, laughing with the two jolly knights. This girl, the one who had climbed on a stool on a chair on a box, this girl had found the Phonic Fairy, who had come to share her love of stories with the little girl.