3.4 point. For comparison, the fine print on a credit card agreement is about 6 point. The letters are unreadable to the naked eye, including yours, and perfectly clear through the Fairy Glass in the kit.

No. Tell us how many teeth are gone and the kit arrives with a bundle stamped DELAYED: a Special Delivery letter from the newly built Fairy Post Office, plus the letter for every tooth already lost. In fairy terms, 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 to catch up. The loose envelopes then begin at the next tooth, so the story is whole.

The outer box is plain brown with no words or pictures on it. Inside it, the envelopes are sealed and numbered, and the welcome card asks you to store it somewhere a child does not go. We cannot make it childproof, but we can make it boring, and we have.

Yes. Each letter stands alone and travels inside its envelope, so it can go under whichever pillow the tooth comes out near. A second Fairy Glass is an add-on so each house has one. One parent should hold the box and hand off the next envelope as needed. Letter ten is written for two-pillow children, and a letter by post finds either letterbox.

You choose the fairy, art style, color scheme and companion. We generate illustrations from those choices with an AI image model, review every image by hand, and print them with the letters. Your child's favorite things show up as small details in the scenes.

Usually five to seven business days. Each kit is written, printed, cut, folded and packed by one person. If a tooth is wiggling right now, email us and we will do our best.

Because a fairy is exactly as quick as a blink, and only ever moves during one. Stare without blinking and she waits, perfectly still, the color of whatever is behind her. The harder a child tries, the more they blink, and the more she gets done. The Fairy Glass shows what fairies wrote. Nothing shows the fairies.

A fairy's lantern is a baby firefly that has not learned to fly yet, carried in an acorn cup. Fairies read in bed by its light every night, the same as your child, and when the firefly learns to fly, the fairy lets it go. That is why there are fireflies in summer. Every one is a lantern that graduated. The letters mention this more than once, so by June your child will have worked it out in the backyard.

Because the pillow is the night of, and the post takes a few days. Every posted letter has a slip tucked in front from the fairy explaining the delay: the Council met about the tooth and Old Mossbeard fell asleep, the ink is made from blackberries and the blackberries were not ready, the post fairy sat down in the middle of the swinging bridge for a while. There are twenty slips, and nobody is ever blamed in any of them.

Yes. The fairies use real stamps from the post office, chosen for being pretty, stuck on by hand, and the envelope is addressed by hand to your child. No printed barcode, no label. It looks like what it is: a letter.

A fairy at work. On a bright day something small drifts across, like a thread or a tiny bubble; look straight at it and it slides away, because a fairy cannot be looked at and work at the same time. Let your eyes go soft and it comes back. Letter fifteen explains it properly. (The nurse who wrote the kit adds: a sudden shower of new ones, or flashes of light, is a question for a doctor, not a fairy.)

An add-on to any order: a solid glass dome in a turned wooden cradle. Slide it along the letter and the words swim up underneath, the way a flower looks under a drop of dew. Fairy Rosie invented it from polished ice after one useful morning at the Fairy Leadership Training Academy, and the fairies made the human-sized one from beach sand in the Fire Night bonfire. The card in the box tells the whole story, including the trust fall.

Six of its twenty-four doors hold a nasturtium or pumpkin seed sealed in a little window, from a seed house with the grower's label, in place of a coin. In the Land, those seeds are shaped like teeth for a reason the First Harvest card explains. The doors tear out and get planted after the last frost. Both plants are safe if a seed is nibbled, but seeds and coins are not for toddlers, so the calendar hangs up high. Seeds cannot be posted to Hawaii, Puerto Rico or the island territories; the wooden calendar can.

Whatever your tooth fairy pays. The pocket fits a folded bill or two coins. The letters never mention an amount, so the going rate is up to you.

You can read the first letter on the home page and the catch-up letter on the journey page. The rest stay sealed. You will read them anyway when they arrive, one at a time, which is the right way.