Posts Tagged ‘a children’s story’

Today, I wrote a magical story, below, for Rosalie, my new granddaughter. It contains the values I hope she and every other human on this planet will come to hold, the value of all creatures and all persons of all kinds from all places. May we fly together and shout, “Yay!”

Wherever Rosalie went magic happened.

“Yay!” Rosalie yelled.

Rosalie’s mom took her to the ocean. They sat on a bench overlooking the beach. Her mom held Rosalie in her arms.

“Yay!” shouted Rosalie.

And suddenly Rosalie became a blue and pink whale wearing a soft, silver beanie cap. She looked at her mom. She was a bright orange whale. They swam together through a swarm of tasty treats.

“Yay,” she and her mom both cheered as Rosalie took big yummy bites.

The next day, Rosalie’s dad took her to the zoo.

They went to the elephant exhibit.

“Yay!” Rosalie shouted, and the next instant she turned into a bright orange elephant. She looked over at her dad. He was now a bright yellow elephant.

“Yay!” Rosalie tooted through her trunk, and suddenly she wore a blue blanket, bright yellow ear dangles and a red cap.

“Yay!” shouted Rosalie and she rose into the sky — trunk-in-trunk with her dad — and they flew above the animal enclosures.

And all the creatures of the zoo, black leopards, yellow giraffes, brown bears and striped zebras waved and cheered.

The next day Rosalie stayed home. But that evening as the sun set, her Papa grandpa took her by the hand and led her into the backyard.

“Look,” her Papa Grandpa said, and he pointed at a bright point of light beside a crescent moon.

“It’s the planet Venus,” said Papa.

“Yay!” said Rosalie and she and Papa suddenly turned into spaceships and floated up into the sky. They sailed past the silver moon, circled Mars and rocketed on toward the cloud swirlies of Jupiter and the golden rings of Saturn.

“Yay,” yelled Rosalie and Papa as they surged toward Pluto.

The next day her grandma took her to the library.

“Yay,” whispered Grandma and Rosalie in their special library voices.

And they sat together in the library and read books about people paddling in canoes in a far off places.

“Yay,” yelled Rosalie and suddenly she and her grandma were in a canoe. And as grandma paddled it along, its paddles became wings, and it lifted into the air and flew out over the big, blue-green world. And they flew to far off places, and everywhere they went, they stopped and made new friends.

“Yay!” their new friends shouted with them.

The next day, Rosalie’s whole family got together, and while dinner was being made her aunt sat with her on the couch.

“Tell me a story,” said Rosalie.

“Okay,” said her aunt. “Once there was a little girl named Rosalie, and she loved to yell, ‘Yay!’ And whenever Rosalie yelled ‘Yay!’ wonderful and magical things happened.”

“Yay!” yelled Rosalie and her aunt. By now everyone who loved Rosalie knew to yell “Yay!”

And suddenly Rosalie and her aunt and her mom and her dad and her papa and her grandma flew out of the window into the bright blue sky.

And holding hands, they soared out over the bright blue-green earth.

“Yea” her whole family shouted.

And looking back Rosalie saw a zoo full of yelling animals and a canoe full of yelling friends flying up to join them. And they all shouted, “Yay!”

Then around and around the earth they all went, Rosalie leading the way, the planets trailing behind them like the tail of a kite.

“YAY!”

What could make you so excited that if you began

it you could hardly wait to get up in the morning to complete it?

Do that!

I like uninhibited short people who enjoy being told a good story.

This week at a party I sat down with Abigail, my nephew’s daughter, and invented a story for her. Abigail is six. Oddly enough the little girl in the story that I told her was six, and had a dog named Obi, and strangely enough Abigail herself has a dog named Obi, named after Obi Wan Kenobi.

Abigail sat still beside me and listened intently. She loved it when Obi went out on  a bike ride with her, riding his “platform bike,” which her dad had invented for him, and Abigail loved it, when after Obi’s disastrous bike crash, he was comforted at home with chicken nuggets that looked like dinosaurs. Chicken nuggets in the shape of dinosaurs are her favorite food.

Later, at the party, I found Abigail’s dad,  Roger, and  outlined the story to him, how Obi, the adventuresome dog, rode a “platform bike,” and crashed and was dramatically rescued by him from the sewer under the street. Then and there I and gave Roger some pointers on the next installments of the story so he could continue it, if he wanted . The next thing, I think for Obi, the adventure dog to do, is to enter a bike race. After all Roger owns a bike show and has himself raced competitively.

It’s all about timing, when you race, and when you tell little girls stories about racing dogs.  Being in the right place at the right time with the right information and “bingo,” a good time is had by two!

When I was in Brazil a few years ago, I told the leaders I was working with that I thought that in institutions such as churches and schools, children should be treated as the entrée, the main course and  the absolute, riveting, uncompromising center of it all.  I believe that, and practice it.  I believe that children should never be babysat or watched; they should be engaged, challenged, centered on and introduced to new things — dogs that ride bikes and such.

I came home from the Brazil  sick and weary of not saying enough about the value of children,  and so I wrote an article on children and spirituality that was published in a magazine for people who thought the same thing. It lobbied for creating super-meaningful experiences for kids.

I’m still all over this. In the beginning, we must teach children to begin thinking creatively or they’ll grow up to be adults who are blindly fascinated with the same thing, over and over and over and over again.

Know a child?

Then begin a beginning.

Are you a child?

Yes,  you are, even if you are an adult  you are still a child in some deep and mysterious cabinet of wonders within the psyche that exists hidden in your child-like psyche? Yes, you all are, children!

And because I love you, I want to encourage you, to begin beginning what you have in your heart to begin.

Think about it.

If you don’t begin a new story, and tell it to someone else, then how will you ever end that story so you can begin another one and tell it to another one who is so much like yourself.

So, just begin it and keep going on from there —  together.

You’ll like that!