It is a common sentiment where I work to be irritated at a patient who has a long list that she thinks her social worker should fix for her. (It is somewhat diagnostic, but that's another story.) A co-worker today said "I'm her social worker, not her fairy godmother." It suddenly occurred to me that the fairy godmother didn't come and ask Cinderella what she thought she wanted, either. She came in and gave orders, knowing what she really needed: "Here's the dress and the shoes. Get in the carriage and be back by midnight."
Even a Fairy Godmother can be a hard-ass when the situation calls for it. She just says it all real nice.