Posted by Deb on December 5th, 2011 at 02:56pm
There was this girl who lived in a box. It was safe and warm in there. Nothing bad ever happened in that little box world of hers, but nothing good ever happened either. It was a glass of flat pop with no fizz kind of place.
She had not always lived in the box. There were memories of grand adventures, running barefoot in the sunshine breathing in the air, alive with the perfume of warm summer days. She had recollections of carefree laughter, of goose bumps when facing a new challenge and even the tears of loss due to being alive in a world so often unpredictable and downright scary. Those memories called to her now.
As this girl examines her life (she peeked out of the box one day and saw all the brightness out there) she could not pinpoint or even remember when this old box became her dwelling place. She realized it was kind of cramped in there and she wanted out, but who had the key? It was a fearful moment. What if I cannot get out, what if I do!! She knew deep inside herself that if she did not get out, her heart would turn to stone and she would die.
So, she started pushing. To her surprise the walls gave a little. She took another little risk and pushed again. They gave a little more. WOW, this is fun. Strength flowed into her arms and excitement bubbled up in her. She gave another shove. The walls began to separate. A sweet light and fragrant fresh air flooded into the now creaky, shaky box. One more shove and it collapsed at her feet.
She was free. Yikes!! It was a glorious, frightening moment. It kind of gave her chills. So she gathered up the pieces of that old box and built a fire. As she warmed herself, she said goodbye to her old prison friend. As the embers died down she saw something shiny in the coals. She smiled. There was the key. It was shaped like a heart. It had been in her possession all along, hidden somewhere in that old box. When it cooled, she put it on a gold chain and placed it around her neck, as a reminder that freedom was always within her grasp.
So bags packed, heart in hand, and a little scared, off she went ready to make new memories. Memories of laughter and tears, memories of risks taken, memories of grand adventures, all part of that glorious mix we call life.