Storyteller

mysterious book

UNDER a tree where the breezes blow,
There is the spot that it’s good to go
With the children bronzed by the Summer sun,
Bubbling with laughter and wholesome fun;
And I gather them round — all the happy clan,
And forget for a while I’m a grizzled old man.

Marjorie, Florence, and fair Lucille,
Freddy and Denny — and then we steal
An hour or two from the clock of life,
The quest of gold and the constant strife,
The clamor and noise of a city day
For the peace and joy of a bit of play.

Pirate stories for boys we tell,
For there is the place to tell them well;
With treasure Islands we build in sand,
And we mark the spot where the pirates land,
And even the place where the gold was hid
By that master of pirates, old Captain Kidd.

Then we leave the pirates and run away
To the wonderful glens where the fairies play;
And under the tree where the breezes are
We summon the fairies with crown and star,
And I tell of the wonderful things they do
When the sun is up and the skies are blue.

And the far off world may call and call,
But I never hear through my little wall
Of innocent youngsters that hem me in.
I finish one tale and a new begin;
And there we sit underneath the tree
Till mother calls all of us in for tea.

Edgar Albert Guest
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There was a child…

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There was a child

went forth every day.

And the first object he looked upon,

that object he became,

and that object became a part of him for the day,

or a certain part of the day,

or for many years, or

stretching cycles of years.

The early lilacs became a part of this child,

and the grass 

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and white and red morning glories,

and white and red clover,

and the song of the phoebe-bird,

and the third month lambs,

and the sows pink-faint litter,

and the mare’s foul,

and the cow’s calf…

–Walt Whitman

It makes you think…

what

will become a part of your child

today

that will last only today…

or years

or stretch to cycles of years?

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Why does it matter?

A seed is growing inside you.

It will soon become a human being; a living soul…

As this seed grows you will begin to feel flutters, then actual movements which are completely separate from your own. This being is sustained by you physically; but also emotionally.

It hears…you.

It feels…you.

You are its first understanding of life.

You birth…

Birth

This miniature person is handed to you now and you are responsible for creating a life outside your body.

But-

from this moment until around age eight very little of what you do or what you say will be recalled as memory. 

Does childhood really matter? 

 The answer is YES!

They may not remember but their brain and emotions are recording everything from even before birth. The child’s brain is not complete at birth. All the collective moments in those childhood years are imprinted inside the child’s brain, heart, soul, and spirit and will contribute to what he/she will become.

Is not that remarkable!

Also terrifying!

Most parents, when handed that new baby think, I have no idea what to do next…

 Philosophies for parenting are abundant.

You chose what fits your style and values.

And that is the purpose of this blog.

My passion is childhood.

There is only one!

The time between pre-birth and recollection is precious and fleeting.

What you choose makes a life.

It is a time of reverence and awe…