MAGIC WILL ALWAYS FIND A WAY

Jimahl di Fiosa
WITCHES
Published in
3 min readSep 24, 2017

When my mother was admitted to a convalescent home recently to recover from injuries sustained in a fall, I immediately sent a large bouquet of flowers to her bedside. I would have delivered them myself except that we live hundreds of miles apart.

A day into her stay, I began to hear disturbing reports of patient abuse at this facility, some of it directed to my mother. My father called me in tears and asked me for help. It seemed that one nurse in particular had a sadistic tendency. She had refused my mother a bedpan, intentionally causing her to wet the bed and then scolding her for it as if she were a child.

My mother confronted the nurse and asked her why she was so mean. “I don’t allow myself to care about anyone” she said “if I did, I would be unable to do my job.”

I felt badly for my mother. And I wanted to stop the abuse. But what to do? Having heard others tell similar stories about ill treatment of the elderly in facilities like this one, I was hesitant to address the situation directly with the owner. What if the abuse was systematic? I then quickly located a State agency whose primary function is to investigate these types of complaints. But my father begged me not to file a report for fear of retaliation against my mother.

So as a witch I figured I would work magic. I pondered over ways to conjure up and direct spirit wards to my mother’s bedside. I invoked angels to surround her. I tried to extend my aura to reach her while we both slept. I visualized those who might harm her being hurt in return. I pondered over how I might send a protective talisman discreetly disguised as a mundane object. But no solution seemed quite right to me. Despite all my efforts I felt helpless. Completely incapable of using all my “powerful” magic to help her.

Then my flowers were delivered. “They arrived at just the right time” my mother said “I was in so much pain and ready to give up, but the flowers helped me remember that life is beautiful.”

“The flowers are like magic” my father said “they have completely transformed this hell hole.”

A day later and my mother reported “Everyone has come to see the flowers. Nurses, doctors, other patients, their families. They can’t get enough of them. Everyone tells me how beautiful they are. They come in sick, or miserable, and leave smiling.”

A few more days go by and my mother tells me that she received a “get well” card signed by all the staff including the evil nurse, who was now being exceptionally kind and calling her “honey” and “dear.”

Today my mother told me that the flowers were nearly gone.

“Have they died?” I asked.

“No, people come to me and ask me if they can have a flower. I can see in their eyes, hear in their voice how much they need something. For some it’s joy, for others love. So I give them a flower.”

In retrospect, I find it interesting that despite all my occult knowledge, my shelves and shelves of books, and my “supreme witchyness” all that was needed to reverse this terrible set of circumstances was a vase of flowers.

As a once dear friend used to say from time to time “magic will always find a way.”

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Jimahl di Fiosa
WITCHES
Writer for

Author of four books on witchcraft and the occult, lover of life, eternal optimist and happy to still believe that whatever the problem, love is the answer.