The Gift One Cold, Rainy Day Brought

I put those plastic imaginary planets away a few years ago. Rightly believing, I thought, that the next time I saw them it would probably be when the grandchildren come to visit, decades from now.

imageThat was until a simple trip to the attic, to put more stuff away for spring, during a cold and rainy day, led two little boys down a trail where plans, dreams, and planets never quite realized, stirred their memory and triggered their imaginations.  

Soon, that clutter-free kitchen was once again transformed into a toddler’s playground, while the attic was a little less cluttered for once. 

imageThey were busy, re-doing, re-figuring and re-building those fantasies buried from long ago.  Armed with new knowledge, and a few years, they could finally get it right. 

A chance to re-kindle hope. 

So it is with children.  Play is never carefree.  It is focused, determined and has a pre-conceived goal in mind. It brings stress — a good kind of stress, I believe — the kind that brings production and good ideas. 

imageWhat was play like before?  In the old days when toys didn’t have websites to show you all the additional sets and parts, with photos showing you how elaborate things could be?  If only you only hadn’t lost some of your parts to the sweeper, or the dog. 

Watching them  them now, older and wiser, finally getting it right, but still not-quite-perfect, I wonder, how many more chances will they get to do a do-over.

 

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