I really can’t add to this. It makes me sad because it is the truth in today’s society. Those of us who were raised as the author of this post were so fortunate to have been a child in that environment. I remember vividly playing in forts and running around pretending I was a wild pony in the wild west—we lived in rural Montana at that time and wild horses still roamed the canyons and prairie. It’s a “wonder”filled memory.
If you know the story of Mary Poppins you’ll know that the children could only understand what the birds were saying when they were very young. Open hearts and minds; unfettered by responsibility, or yearning to be anything other than what they were; gave them a portal to endless wonders. Explanations were unnecessary – imagination a tool rather than a task. Peter Pan never grew up, Alice disappeared down a rabbit hole, and Dorothy travelled to Oz.
My early years were spent in those places. Never bored or at a loss for what to do, nothing seemed impossible. I devoured Greek mythology, could name every constellation in the night sky. There were forts to build, tunnels to dig, hollow logs to explore. I wasn’t afraid of trolls or goblins, I knew how to avoid their tricks. Fairies danced for me every evening, certain it was just a matter of time until they invited me for tea.
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