Real mail from the tooth fairy, printed almost too small to read without the glass. A box of letters for every tooth, a calendar for the first one, a stamped envelope for any tooth at all, and nothing that needs a screen.
Buy any one on its own. Buy one and you get a fairy code for the others.
Twenty-four doors. One first tooth. The story of what the fairies did with it.
Starts the morning after the first tooth. One sealed door a day: a tiny note and an errand that goes outside. In wood, with an engraved tile for the keepsake frame behind each door. Or in card that composts, with six seed doors you plant in spring. Choose the season the tooth came out in.
Twenty letters. Twenty teeth. One journey through the Land.
Every baby tooth, start to finish. 20 numbered envelopes with letters printed at 3.4 point, each with its own artwork and a moon pocket for the coin. A tooth chart, two keepsake boxes, and a plain outer box that no child will ever think to open.
One tooth's letter, stamped and posted to your child.
Pick the tooth. The same numbered letter the kit holds, with a slip in front explaining why it came by post, sealed in a real envelope with a real stamp and posted to your child. For the grandparent, the aunt, the parent who lives a long way off, or the tooth that caught everyone out.
The Harvest Batch: The Journey Kit, made once for Thanksgiving, with the Thank-You Leaf. Only 50 numbered boxes, and 50 left. Orders close Sunday, November 15. See the Harvest Batch
For Christmas: order the Journey Kit or the Calendar by Tuesday, December 8. Letters by post a little later, gift cards right up to the morning. All the dates
Grandparents, aunts, godparents and the grown-up who lives a long way off: this part is for you.
The fairies tested everything before a single box went out. These are their reviews. Real reviews from real families will go here as soon as the first kits have gone under the first pillows.
I fell asleep reading the first letter, which is the highest praise I give anything. Woke up for the second. Would sleep through again.
Every envelope numbered. Every stamp straight. I wept a little at Tooth No. 12 and then filed the tear under Miscellaneous.
My driftwood made it into one of the letters. Five teeth. I would have given six but the form only goes to five, which I have reported.
Read it at the top of the Rock and the wind took page three and brought it straight back. That is how you know a letter is a keeper.
Lovely letters. I tried to eat the Fairy Glass. Rosie says that is not what it is for. Rosie is usually right.
Bright, warm, very readable. Docked one tooth because I have not learned to fly yet and had to be carried to the review.
Every reviewer above is a fairy, and none of them was paid, except Chip, who was paid in driftwood.
Because a letter you need a special glass to read is a letter from somewhere else.
Every note from the Land is printed at 3.4 point type, almost too small to read without the glass. The Fairy Glass in the box makes it clear as a storybook page. The ritual of fetching the glass, leaning in, and reading slowly is the whole point. Children do not skim through a glass dome.
Nothing in either kit needs a screen. The story is on paper, the keepsakes are wood, the coins are real, and the errands go outside.
Everything else in your child's life can be on a screen. This is the one thing that doesn't need to be, on purpose.
Name, age, how many teeth are already gone, a few favorite things, and the look of the artwork. Five minutes.
Every letter is personalized and printed small enough to need a Fairy Glass. We assemble by hand and mail it in a box that says nothing.
Open the next numbered envelope, or tear the next door. Write the date and the tooth on the record line. Coin in the moon pocket. Under the pillow it goes.
Each letter picks up where the last left off, from the tide line where the first tooth washes up to the horse chestnut at the end of the garden.
Tell us how many. The kit arrives with a bundle stamped DELAYED: a Special Delivery letter from the new Fairy Post Office, and the letter for every tooth already gone, because in the Land those teeth did arrive and the letters were written, they just sat in a drawer until there was a Post Office to send them. Read one a night. The loose envelopes start at the next tooth.
It happens to everyone. Get the free printable note that explains, with a straight face, why nobody came, and promises somebody will tonight.
Add a second Fairy Glass, or a Dewdrop, so the reading can happen wherever the tooth comes out. The letters travel in the envelope, so the story keeps going no matter which pillow it is under. And a letter by post finds either letterbox.
For the grown-ups
It floats in the corner of every page. If a small person wanders up while you are reading about how the tooth fairy actually works, tap it. The whole site turns into the dullest page in the Land, and stays that way even if they refresh.
To come back, press and hold the acorn for three seconds, or tap it once and type the word acorn. Small people rarely have the patience. On a keyboard, Escape hides the site too.