Tell Me A Story

A friend from college asked me to write a children's book for her kids. While I was flattered, I declined and said I wanted them to tell me a story. A child's imagination is magical and needs to be nurtured, encouraged and preserved.

This was my response to her request:

As the cool morning dew glistened beneath the grounded leaves in the early fall, a miracle happened. Not unlike any miracle before or those yet to come. You see, there is no once upon a time or fairy princesses or toads who, when kissed, transform into Prince Charming. There are no ogres or trolls or witches. No Land of Oz or Munchkins ever existed. These things are not real. Yet are are alive! Borne in the imagination of people, who were born on a day, just an ordinary day, like the one on which you entered into this world. Oh, their miracle could have happened in the warmth of a summer sun or the cold of a winter's night. That doesn't matter. It was just a day, or night.

You see, stories aren't real. But the imagination is - that magical, mystical place inside every child's mind lives fantastical places and extraordinary beings. Only those adults who are wise enough never to grow up can bring to life Dr. Seuss and the Grinch, Mother Goose and Grimm. There's nothing new or unique about these characters. They have lived before, their adventures untold in the imagination of children for centuries. Unfortunately, they are quickly forgotten along with teddy bears and toy soldiers, Barbie dolls and tiddly winks. For as we pick up the pieces of Candyland and Chutes and Ladders, we also shelf our wondrous imagination. We soon forget how to talk to imaginary friends or transport ourselves to another dimension.

So, tell me, where would you like to go today?
© Tami Belt