Growing up, I told stories using Barbie dolls. They were like Barbie soap operas, told by nightlight as my sister slept (or listened) from across the room. The dolls weren't dressed-up or primped, some had hair cut down to their scalps. Before I could write, they were means to an end, a way to tell a story without paper or pen.
Recently, I've seen this happening with my daughter. Long after the door has been closed on nap-time, I can hear her, turning pages in storybooks and using the pictures to inspire her own tales. She knows the stories by heart, but instead of reciting what she remembers, I hear her dreaming up her own new adventures on every page - culminating with a loud and definite, The End.
And instead of going in and telling her to lay down, to close her eyes and get the rest that her growing body needs, I leave her be, let her imagination grow and even envy a little, how far it will take her.
1 comment:
I love this! That picture is just precious, and the image of your sweet daughter creating a world of her own through books and pictures is amazing! I AM the type to go in and tell them that books are for later, while sleep is for now...but you have inspired to me to be patient, and to listen and dream with them. Thanks! :)
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