Problems are for Solving

NOTE: This is one of many things I’ve written some time ago. I hope to get back to finishing many of these projects, but I found this on my hard drive today and thought I’d share it with you in chapters and maybe be inspired to continue it.

My daughter Elsie asked me to tell her a silly story, as she is wont to do while getting her hair brushed. Her hair is very snarly at times, and we have adopted this ‘silly story’ practice as a way of taking her mind off the pain that comes with the hair brushing. Elsie, you may want to know, is four years old, and is the fourth of five children in our home.

On this particular occasion I was feeling more creative and imaginative than I have in the past and began a story that didn’t end quickly. Because the story is still going on in the telling with my children (who have all joined in on the listening now) I wanted to put down on paper (or binary digits, as the case may be) what I have told them, as best I can remember it, before it fades as my memory does.

At some point, I am sure that this story will teach us something of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I say that not because it is the main aim, but because I believe that all creative endeavors by Christians who love Jesus will reflect at some level His Gospel of Peace. As I begin here there are only two chapters. I am looking forward to what will come next. I am not typically very creative—and so this is an early endeavor for me into the imagination.

Elsie: Please tell me a silly story, daddy.

Dad: Let’s see now. How does that story begin?

Elsie: I don’t know. It’s your story, daddy!

Mom: Is it, ‘Once upon a pig?’

Dad: That sounds close, but it’s not qute it. The ‘Once upon’ part sounds right.

Mom: Maybe, ‘Once upon a fish?’

Dad: No, that’s not it.

Elsie [interrupting]: ONCE UPON A TIME!

Dad Oh, yes. That’s it. Thank you Elsie.

Here is the story that followed:

Chapter 1: The Wall Is a Lake

Once upon a fish, err time, there was a little girl named Frieda. Frieda was 6 years old, just this past week, and she was sitting on her bed, playing. Something today, though, seemed not quite right. Finally, she figured out what it was: the wall of her room had turned into a lake.

Surprised as she was—she was not as surprised as we grown-ups might be at the same sight. Children, we all know, roll with life’s changes more easily than we do. And of course where you and I might see this as a large inconvenience, Frieda was intrigued. Still she knew that she must inform her parents of this change in her room. After all, she didn’t want to be blamed for the hall carpeting being wet!

“Mom!�

“What is it dear?�, her mother answered sweetly.

“My wall turned into a lake and it’s spilling all over my floor!�

Of course we know that lakes roll rather than spill, but please remember that Frieda is only six years old. Of course her mother knows that, and instantly thinks this is a game of Frieda’s imagination. Being a good mother—she follows along,

“That’s nice dear. Please try to keep the lake out of the hallway, though.�

“Mom—I’m serious! My floor is all wet! HELP!�

Mom comes in and sure enough the floor is drenched with water. And not clean, filtered drinking water but smelly, fishy water. Mom, of course, being a grownup notices only the water on the floor is oblivious to the missing wall.

“Where did this water come from? Did a pipe burst? Oh, dear! Do I need to call the plumber? What will happen to the new carpet in the hallway?�

I may have neglected to mention that it is Saturday, and so Frieda’s father is home as well. Mom calls out to him—“DEAR!!!??â€?

Dad rushes in, knowing the voice Mom used was the serious, big trouble voice.

“What happened here?!� dad exclaims.

Frieda, beginning to be frustrated that no one sees the most important feature of the room, yells out, “My wall turned into a lake!�

“Frieda, walls do not just turn into lakes,� dad and mom reply almost in unison, immediately.

“But LOOK! There! It used to be a wall and there’s a lake there now!�

Sure enough, mom and dad finally notice the lake that used to be a wall. Speechless, they stare at what used to be a perfectly good wall which is now a lake that stretches as far as they can see. Waves roll up and down and continue to splash into the bedroom like a high tide. After the initial shock wears they notice a boat, and old fashioned gray rowboat floating towards them. In order to be sure that this is not a dream, and filled with a youthful, adventuresome spirit that had not graced him in years, dad says “let’s check this out!�

Mom is unsure, but dad and Frieda convince her to wade out with them to the boat, now just a few yards from Frieda’s bed. Still filled with some shock and disbelief, the family of three climbs into the row boat and gaze around. What happens next will have to wait for another time.

Trackback URI | Comments RSS