Monday, September 29, 2008

The magic of a child...


My father always impressed upon me the fact that having an imagination was a very important thing...he said, *Don't ever lose your imagination.*
Of course at the time I had no idea what he was talking about. I was a kid, of course I had an imagination.
Probably one that was a bit large anyway.

I recall laying in bed at night and wondering what my collection of stuffed animals did during the day while I was at school.
Of course any adult in their right minds would tell you that stuffed animals didn't do anything, after all they were stuffed right?
Well not in my imagination.
Stuffed animals could talk, walk, and have adventures.
I mean I knew that for a fact because sometimes I'd come home from school and go change into my 'everyday' clothes and notice that the six foot long orange snake on my bed wasn't in the exact place I'd left it.
Kanga and Roo were a bit lopsided.
I swear Winnie the Pooh had a smirk on his face.
My sister's stuffed horse looked wind blown, as if it had been running.
Sure, I knew it.
Stuffed animals led an adventurous life while I was at school or sleeping.
I tried often to pretend to be asleep and catch them in the act.
No such luck.

So then I began to *imagine* what they were doing while I was unaware. That was fun. The animals [stuffed] could go on grand adventures and never leave my bedroom. And I could go with them.

Now I am a grown up.
When my husband caught me outside with a camera and my dog's stuffed animals, he raised a brow.
I said, *Gosh, wouldn't it be such fun to create some books with a story for our grandkids?*
He guessed so.
I held the stuffed animals and tried to explain how they could go on 'farm adventures' and that I could write about it and make it into a little story book the grandkids could relate to~~~ using things they were familiar with to make it fun.
He guessed so.

So I put a photo-story book together and read it out loud to him.
He gave me a huge smile and said the grandkids would love it.

See, I'm not so crazy after all.

I recall one more thing Dad told me about writing and his characters he used. He said sometimes they took on a life of their own. Yeah, I see that.
Crazy Squirrel and Happy HedgeHog take on a life of their own while I'm writing about them.
Sometimes their story takes an unexpected turn when I'm not expecting it.

I guess that is the Magic. I still have the magic of a child, an imagination.
Or maybe I'm just crazy.

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