After The Rain Goes, There Are Rainbows...

Once upon a time, in the Italian town of Villagio, there lived a kind-natured woodcarver and toymaker named 'Geppetto'. Last names were not really done in this particular town, so he was mostly just 'Signor Geppetto' to children, adolescents/teenagers, and adults alike whether or not they came in to buy his wonderful wares. He lived by himself with his black, brown, and white slightly-long-haired tabby kitten called 'Figaro'; no wife (or husband) or either little boy or girl to call his own.
Was he lonely as a result from this? Not romantically- try as he might and had in his not-quite-so faraway youth and even just recently, he had never really seen the point of courting, being kissed on the lips, marriage, and playing around in the marriage bed for himself. If OTHERS wanted to, then that was just fine and dandy! It just *wasn't* for him, and never would be.

No- what he *REALLY longed for* more than anything else in the world was *a child of his own*. Boy or girl, it wouldn't matter (but in the innermost depths of his heart, he secretly wished for a little boy); he would love and care for them the same as his own kind parents had done for him before they fell ill and died when he was thirteen as the result of a quack doctor and his nurse. He HAD tried adoption when he just *could NOT* bring himself to have a 'bambino' in the 'usual/family' way, but apparently single fathers -much less ones who wanted to *stay* single- were not what the heads of orphanages were looking for ...so Geppetto continued to have an empty heart save for his cat as he continued carving, sanding, painting, sewing, and selling cuckoo clocks, music boxes, figurines, and toys both wooden and stuffed to the people of Villagio, spending his days with the children of those who were lucky to have children, sorrowfully knowing that none of them would ever be his own...

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One evening a couple of nights before Geppetto was set to sell his spring line of toys (his other wares, too, but it was mainly the toys if not also a couple of music boxes and figurines), there was a knock on his front door.
He was feeling particularly doleful tonight and did not really want to get up from where he was sitting at his kitchen table just after he had closed up shop for the night to possibly sell another toy to another parent of a child that would never be his by blood or adoption, but knew that he had to out of *politeness* if nothing else. So he wiped at his eyes from behind his spectacles, brushed down/off his simple brown-shaded clothes, and raked his fingers through his short(ish) straight sandy-brown hair so as to make a good first impression to a potential buyer before slapping a smile onto his moderately-handsome face and unlocking/opening the door with a cheery, "'Buona sera, signora'! (Good evening, madam!) How may I help you tonight? Are you interested in a clock? A music box or figurine? -A toy for one of your little ones?"

But the slight and slim tiny-yet-long-limbed young woman with long gentle waves of light dirty-blonde hair, big silvery-gray eyes, porcelain skin, and delicate Fae-like features dressed in bronze and blue under her black hooded cloak only smiled gently and shook her head before replying in a soft sweet whisper of a voice with a Scottish/Irish accent, "'Bunoa sera', good Geppetto. -No, I do not require any of your wondrous ligenous treasures at the moment, lovely as they are.
"I have been walking about for quite a while, and only wish to rest myself for a moment; perhaps with a crust of bread and cup of milk."

"...Yes; yes. I think I can find something for you."

This was a strange request to say *the LEAST*, but Geppetto was so happy and relieved to not have his childless status (unintentionally) rubbed in his face that he more than willingly let the gray-eyed woman inside and ushered her over to his table before gathering what she had requested of him.
When he teared up once more upon catching sight of one of his figurines portraying a laughing father and son while pouring a cup of milk, his momentary guest queried gently, "-Why are you crying?"

"Oh- it's nothing," Geppetto insisted with a small laugh, though his slight sniff and wiping of his eyes from behind his glasses gave him away.

"'Nothing'?" inquired the Fae-esque woman with a slight raise of one of her delicate fair(ish) eyebrows while she took the cup of milk and slice of bread offered to her (Figaro currently resting and purring on her lap after sniffing her fingers). "-And what is a bowl of milk? 'Nothing'. But *kindness*, makes it EVERYTHING," she said as she sipped the refreshing drink and ate her bread.
Once she had finished, she said to Geppetto gently yet firmly, "Now, please: why are you crying? It must be something that you either miss very much, or long for but cannot have in the 'usual' sense, for you to weep so."

And so kindly cornered as he was (and he had *NO wish* to insult his present 'client', either), Geppetto told the fair-haired lady -who was a witch by the name of 'Luna Lovegood'- all about his dearest wish for a child, but of HOW *impossible* it was by either birth or adoption as he had no desire whatsoever to go courting or get married; never had, *never WOULD*!

"Ah," said Luna Lovegood sympathetically as she gently stroked little Figaro's soft back, "You know that your heart is large, and that is why it feels so empty; you fill your days with work and nights with dreaming, waiting in hopes of a someone who can fill the barren part of your soul- and if you could have JUST *ONE wish* come true, it would be to fill this empty heart ...yes?"

"*Yes*-!" Geppetto breathed sadly as a tear trickled down his cheek.

Luna's large silvery eyes peered at the lonely toymaker kindly from her uniquely-beautiful pale face for a long moment before she said in her soft voice while reaching into a pocket of her cloak with one delicate hand and wiping the tear off of his face via the other, "Good Geppetto, you have given so much happiness to others that you deserve some long-awaited joy of your own. You SHALL have your dearest wish come true; I shall make it so (or, *begin to*, anyhow) as I have the power to! Here-,"

She leaned over the table and placed into Geppetto's hands what she had pulled out of her pocket: a tiny white pine seed, before giving him the instructions as to what to do with this little pine seed. "You must plant it in a flowerpot on your workbench tonight, water it, and then leave it be overnight. Come morning, it will have sprouted into a little pine tree. You must then kiss the fronds of said sapling; if you do exactly as I have said, then you shall have your child.
"*However*," she then added sternly with a LOOK more peering than before, "when you DO happen to have appropriated your long-wished-for offspring, you *MUST* promise me that you will allow him-or-her to grow up *as THEMSELVES*, and not expect them to become EXACTLY *like YOU* if they do not wish it themselves. *NO* GROOMING- *do you hear*??"

There was a terrible dark sadness in Luna's face as she said this, which made Geppetto think to himself that either a friend or loved one of hers' had had this horrible thing happen to him-or-her (perhaps even more than one person!), and it had affected the kind woman greatly.
So he nodded and said with solemn truthfulness while gently holding the tiny magical pine seed in his hands (even going down on bended knee to show the good witch HOW *serious* he was with this vow), "...I *SOLEMNLY swear* that I will love and care for my child whom I have long wished for physically and emotionally, and *NOT* push or expect them to grow up to be exactly -or even *somewhat*- like me if that is something that they *do NOT* want."

"-Eventual romantic inclinations included?"

"Yes, my good lady: including those when the time comes."

Luna's sternness melted away until only her genuinely sweet smile and glowing eyes remained as she nodded in satisfactory return. "Good ...good. Then I shall take my leave now, 'Signor' Geppetto; my time for staying has passed. Goodbye, -and good luck to you and your future little one!"

"Goodbye, 'Signora' Luna Lovegood; and *thank you*- *THANK you* from the bottom of my heart for everything!"

Farewells and good wishes (and warnings) given, with a swirl of her sparkling heel and semi-loud '*crack*!', the good witch disappeared into thin air. (Figaro had luckily already jumped down before she had done so, ambling over to Geppetto's side again with a confused meow and head-tilt.) And just before heading to bed, Geppetto did all as Luna Lovegood had instructed him to: he planted the white pine seed in a colorful flowerpot that he had placed on his now-empty workbench, watered it, and then left it be; though not before giving the flowerpot a fond pat.
He happily snuggled down under his quilt and sheets with his kitten curled up at his side, filled with anticipation and excitement for the morning to come...

When the rooster crowed at dawn's first light, Geppetto's soft brown eyes popped wide open as he jolted awake. 'Was it all JUST *a DREAM*?' he wondered as he fumbled for his glasses, put them on, and got out of bed with Figaro perched on his shoulders. 'Just a wish that my heart made when I was fast asleep out of desperate, aching loneliness? Will fortune smile on me since I woke with the morning sunlight?
'...I've had SUCH *faith* in my dream; will this *FINALLY* be the *SOME-day* that my rainbow comes smiling through?'

Such were Geppetto's nervous thoughts as he ventured down the stairs and over to his workbench. And ...YES; *there it was*: real, authentic, and in the *NON-dreaming* world!! Standing straight and tall as possible in the middle of the flowerpot set upon his work table was a particularly beautiful little pine tree with an especially aromal scent that seemed like the scent of Christmas to the overjoyed woodcarver/toymaker. (How appripo-!)
He trembled slightly from apprehensive nerves mixed with happiness as he leaned down and gently kissed the sweet-smelling fronds in front of him- then gasped softly and took a step back when the tightly-bunched-together leaves that he had touched his lips to parted open like a theater curtain ...and what did they reveal?

Only *the MOST* adorable and beautiful tiny little boy of about seven or eight years old lying asleep on a lower layer of pine bracts that Geppetto had ever seen (and he had seen many beautiful/handsome cute and adorable children come in and out of his shop or crossing the streets)!
He looked like a very, *VERY small* marionette puppet without strings come to life with his slenderly-thin build, soft thick hair black as a raven's wing, softly rounded heart-shaped face with an elongated button nose and rosy cheeks, sweetly-lipped mouth, smooth fair skin, long dark tassels of eyelashes, and colorful clothes consisting of red dungarees embroidered with blue-and-gold on the sides, a short-ish-sleeved white-collared pale yellow shirt that buttoned up under those, a blue bowtie, chestnut-brown leather shoes, white gloves, a dark vest hemmed with silver thread, and a golden-yellow Tyrolean cap with a blue ribbon-band and a red feather- and the biggest, sweetest, purest pair of bright azure-blue eyes as the beautiful little boy blinked twice while stretching, rubbing his eyes, and then fully opening them as he looked up at the large man with sandy-brown hair and glasses worn over his soft brown eyes dressed in a nightshirt and cap who was staring down at him with so much awe, wonder, and love.
Eventually, the little boy smiled pure and sweet as he said to Geppetto happily in the same tone of voice, "-Hello, Father!"

Geppetto gasped softly again before he murmured lovingly while gently placing the callused tip of his pointer finger against his son's (HIS *son's*!!!) soft pink cheek, "...Hello, my little Pinocchio; 'il mio desiderio diventa realta- il mio prezioso ragazzo' (my wish come true- my precious boy)."

"Is 'Pinocchio' my name, Father?" the tiny lad queried with a slight confused wrinkle of his nose (though still smiling).

"'Si, figlio mio' (Yes, my son), it is," replied Geppetto with a fond chuckle.

"-Oh. Okay!" was Pinocchio's blithe response as he raised his miniature white-gloved hand up to his Father's large finger and held onto it.
"...Am I really 'your wish come true', Father??"

"*Oh YES*, my boy!" said Geppetto with a near-reverence as he gently stroked over Pinocchio's dark dandelion-tuft of bangs with the tip of his other forefinger, thrilling when the smaller-than-small youth placed himself inbetween the two opposite appendages while holding onto one in compromise of a hug. "My heart has been empty for so long like an open shell on the seashore- like a riverbed dry without water ...and now you've finally come along to fill it; 'Sono cosi felice' (I'm so happy)-!"

Pinocchio's brilliant cerulean orbs for eyes suddenly dimmed a little as he lowered his head, saying sadly in an almost-whisper as he rubbed his cheek against Geppetto's finger, "...I'm awful sorry that I took *so LONG* to get here, Father; that your heart had to be empty for so long, and you *weren't HAPPY*-!"

Geppetto's kind heart softened further from those sweet words, his eyes glistening from *HAPPY tears* as he leaned down to lovingly kiss Pinocchio on the top of his head and just as affectionately murmur, "-That's alright, 'mi stellino' (my little star); never mind now. Old Geppetto has his Little Wooden-Head ...nothing else matters-!
"'Ti amo, mio dolce ragazzo' (I love you, my sweet boy)."

One or two of his tears of joy streamed down Geppetto's cheeks upon feeling and seeing Pinocchio softly kiss his fingers in return, and hearing him say words he had so longed to hear uttered to him by a child of his own- "...I love you too, Father; so much!"