"I think there is such a place - in spite of Uncle Edward," said the Story Girl dreamily, "and I think there is a way of getting there too, if only we could find it."
Well, the Story Girl was right. There is such a place as fairyland - but only children can find the way to it. And they do not know that it is fairyland until they have grown so old that they forget the way. One bitter day, when they seek it and cannot find it, they realize what they have lost; and that is the tragedy of life. On that day the gates of Eden are shut behind them and the age of gold is over. Henceforth they must dwell in the common light of the common day. Only a few, who remain children at heart, can ever find that fair, lost path again; and blessed are they above mortals. They, and only they, can bring us tidings from that dear country where we once sojourned and from which we must evermore be exiles. The world calls them its singers and poets and artists and storytellers; but they are just people who have never forgotten the way to fairyland.
- excerpt from "The Story Girl" by LM Montgomery
Yesterday we listened to Point of Grace Christmas cd about 20 times. If I had been given the choice, I would have opted for one time, possibly twice; but 20 was a bit more than I cared to sit through it. Needless to say, Chloe has found control of the cd player a skill that, now mastered, must remain solely her responsibility.
She has yet to learn the fine details related to cd playing though. In her own simplistic mind it makes perfect sense to stop the player, open the player's front door, remove the cd, re-insert the cd, close the door and then press play. We have yet to teach her that by skipping all the steps prior to the last one she can arrive at the same goal.
One thing I must learn is that "out of sight is out of mind". I forgot this lesson last night and left the cd player out where Chloe could see it. First thing this morning she saw the cd player and asked to play it. I, of course, claimed I was tired of that cd so maybe we wouldn't listen to it today. Chloe, deciding that she was masterful enough to start it on her own, walked over to the player and commensed her cd playing ritual. (open the door, take the cd out...)
She didn't get any further than taking the cd out of the player though. The morning sun shone brightly through our dining room window and at the exact moment that her little fingers grabbed the cd out of the player the sun hit the cd and a bright sparkle hit our ceiling.
Pure joy. Little Chloe realized that she had control over this dancing light show and proceeded to wave the cd back and forth rapidly. This entertained her for quite a while until James joined her game and chased her around the room with the "light". He (the light...somehow it became a masculine entity) would sneak up on Chloe and "kiss" her. He also went out the front door to "go to work". (I think that was James way of saying he was done playing...)
As I sat and watched them enjoying this glittering light from a cd, I was reminded of that child-like wonder we all used to have. I thought of that passage I quoted above from "The Story Girl" that I read the other day. That simplistic awe a child has. How a simple cd catching the sunlight magically becomes so much more. I thought of how God asks us to come to him as little children. That simple faith. That expectancy of great and wonderful things. That pure enjoyment of the simple things. The awe and wonder.
What can I be in awe about today in my little world? I take a moment and gaze at my Christmas tree. Little white lights twinkle at me through the branches and I think to myself "How pretty." I watch my fish dart about the flowers resting at the bottom of the fishtank. Isn't it neat to watch their little tail fins (or whatever you call them) push them about the tank? I watch my fingers as I type this post, or as they crochet small thread into lace and I revel in the details crafted into these hands. I don't have to think about it. They move about so gracefully from here to there, doing exactly what my brain tells them to do. Amazing.
I don't want to lose my way to fairyland. I don't want to lose that amazement over the simplistic wonders of our world. I ask the little girl who dwells in my heart to reside there forever.