Story Book
"Children have neither past nor future; they enjoy the present, which very few of us do."
When I was a little girl my mother would read to me before I went to bed. She would bring out a large book that held all the fairy tales to make my dreams enchanted.
Some about the animals that went onto a large boat two by two,
A boy who refused to grow up,
Seven dwarfs,
A sleeping beauty,
A girl with golden hair.
As she read the stories of magic and true love kisses, I would drift off and think about who was reading the story book about me. What if we were all in a book that someone or something else was reading?
They read about our life, and watched as the pictures changed on the different pages.
Our lives, our story in the pages of a large book for those to read about us.
This fantasy soon faded and I realized that this was my imagination running away from me. No one held a book and read about my life unfolding. My innocence and imagination slipped away, Santa, Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny, all where nothing but memories of how naive I had been.
It took me until this very moment to realize for a short time, I did believe that there was such thing as a god. Although in my young mind I pondered someone not from this time or place reading the book watching the pictures change, me growing up.
My family never went to church, I was raised to believe in what I wanted. I had never believed in a god, or so I thought.
Apparently as a child not even at the age to fully understand the concept of god, I had my own.
The person who was reading my story book.
Some about the animals that went onto a large boat two by two,
A boy who refused to grow up,
Seven dwarfs,
A sleeping beauty,
A girl with golden hair.
As she read the stories of magic and true love kisses, I would drift off and think about who was reading the story book about me. What if we were all in a book that someone or something else was reading?
They read about our life, and watched as the pictures changed on the different pages.
Our lives, our story in the pages of a large book for those to read about us.
This fantasy soon faded and I realized that this was my imagination running away from me. No one held a book and read about my life unfolding. My innocence and imagination slipped away, Santa, Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny, all where nothing but memories of how naive I had been.
It took me until this very moment to realize for a short time, I did believe that there was such thing as a god. Although in my young mind I pondered someone not from this time or place reading the book watching the pictures change, me growing up.
My family never went to church, I was raised to believe in what I wanted. I had never believed in a god, or so I thought.
Apparently as a child not even at the age to fully understand the concept of god, I had my own.
The person who was reading my story book.
♠ ♠ ♠
=D