Oh, the beautiful wonder of childhood.
I can see it in you; the way your eyes sparkle and dance when we play. The sweaty, red-faced breathlessness of pure joy. The way you look at me when I collapse to the floor and become a tangled heap of arms and legs with you. (Those little feet and armpits aren’t going to tickle themselves, you know.)
It causes me to remember a time–not so long ago–when slipping between the slats of that fence which divides this world from a lovely daydream was so easy…
Anne was my best friend, and we roamed the expanse of Green Gables together many a hot summer day. Sara Crewe knew just how to bring out the best in me, with her kind demeanor and heart for the outcast. She, too, knew heartache and trouble, yet she taught me that all little girls are princesses, no matter what. This is all in addition, of course, to the hours I spent in the midst of a wild adventure while I waited for my prince to come save me.
You girls are there. You are my gate back into that world with your endless games of make-believe and magic. You invite me in to that place where the world is so much simpler. And you’re going–with or without me. There are battles to be won and friends to be saved and horses to be ridden in this other place. Oceans to explore and tea parties to be had along with grand feasts of dandelions and grass in a thick muddy sauce.
I am so thankful for this gift. Thankful that you would want me to join you there, and thankful that I’m still captivated enough by the beauty of that place to accept your invitation.
Praying today that you are still able to fit between the slats for a long time to come. Or peer over the fence, at least. It’s beautiful over here. Thank you for bringing me back.