Maisie Anne O’Keefe looked to be Black Irish – that sumptuous result of Spanish DNA and Irish DNA colliding, but in reality she was Scots. 

Upon her birth, both parents looked at the other and said, “This wee one does not have red hair.”  Both were present at the home birth, or they might have wondered if babies had been confused in the nursery. Maisie Anne was the 7^th daughter of a 7^th son and and the 7^th daughter of a 7^th daughter.  Gossip had been rife throughout Adelaide’s pregnancy.  This child is fae, the village folk whispered.

And indeed, Maisie Anne O’Keefe grew into the reputation the village folk had invoked with their words.

While still small, she exhibited an affinity for and a bond with birds.  Any time she left the cottage, the birds would gather about her.  As they grew bolder, they would perch on her shoulders, her hands, her arms, and even her black tresses.  As time went by, they began gathering at her doorway each morning eager for her exit. 

She kept seeds and whatnot in a pouch tied about her waist and she would feed the birds as she walked to the shoppe in the square where she served tea.

One winter began early and was fierce.  The snows came and stayed and she didn’t have enough seed on hand to adequately feed all the birds that waited outside her door.  She feared for the birds though she wasn’t usually prone to fear.  The birds, the villagers whispered, were her familiars.  Maisie Anne thought of them as her children as the years had gone by and would-be suitors were too intimidated to woo her.  Her parents had died, and her siblings had scattered.  She alone lived in the cottage and had meager means.

That evening she set to with the saw her father had used as well as his hammers and nails.  She needed a warmer hat and the birds needed shelter from the cold.  When she was almost done, she went outside, perched the ladder to the side of the cottage, climbed up, and grabbed some straw.  The cottage had been fresh thatched that autumn and the straw was almost pristine.

When she was done, she had a hat of branches, straw, and wood for the birds to use for warmth.  They flocked to her in numbers the villagers had never seen.  When they asked Maisie Anne what she had done, she replied that she couldn’t keep them from starving, but she could keep them warm.

The following morning, Maisie Anne left the cottage sporting her hat and discovered that during the night the villagers had left bags and bags of seed for the birds and provisions for Maisie Anne.

She and her hat became a spectacle each and every winter from that time forward.  Tourists came from miles around to see the fae0 one feed and shelter the birds.  The tea shoppe did very well with the added custom and Maisie Anne’s wages were increased, but still the villagers provided for her and the birds.