Also, Storytelling:  Part #4

I have tons of younger cousins that I often look after.  They’re all either in kindergarten or just starting primary, and they’re all just so small and young.

They’ve each got personality’s of their own:  easily angered, stubborn (oh god, so stubborn), proud - but also sweet, a few very sassy, incredibly kind, and with vivid imaginations.

I had to look after one of them yesterday, and we spent an afternoon pretending my house was a zoo with animals at each corner of a room.  There were schools of fish, cows, sheep, elephants, sharks, dolphins, birds who fly onto my cousin’s arm, and so many more animals.

And every time we hang out together, he always comes up with a new adventure to trek on, wherever we are.  It doesn’t hurt that he’s actually a pretty smart kid, so he can fill empty voids of nothing with something he just learned or something else just as creative.

My other cousins are just the same.  One day, we could be superheroes, or witches and wizards, or whatever they manage to come up with that day.

It amazes me every time, how much a child has an unending source of imagination.  It amazes me even more that whatever they come up with is always fantastical and logical in their pure minds.

I’m not even that old and even I know how much I miss that kind of innocence, that child-like sense of seeing the world with fresh eyes.  Anything could be possible, anything would make sense if you could imagine it.  As someone who always tries to challenge herself with doing something creative, I try to see things that way, see things that anything is still possible.

I’m not saying it’s not.  But what I am saying is that, when you’re a kid who’s still so young and innocent, it’s easier.  Even if you’re not the most fortunate kid around, there’s always something.  Always something to believe in and hope that you can share it with someone else.

And, of course, it’s always better with a friend, someone to confide with to say look, this is amazing!  Who cares if it’s made up?  Because it wouldn’t matter if your parents or older siblings would say it’s dumb and stupid, it was still awesome and now you got to share it with someone.  When you get older, sometimes, it just isn’t as easy.

I always get nostalgic whenever I’d play with my cousins.  I’d remember the days where my stuffed animals came to life just like they did on Toy Story, and that my tea parties had active participants who also thought my brother was a big whiny cry baby.  I’d remember when I had adventures with my childhood friends where we pretended we were Sailor Moon and Sailor Mini Moon and that entire entourage.  I’d remember when watching Arthur and Maggie and the Ferocious Beast made sense because talking animals and a child’s imagination always made sense.

(It’s funny because I actually just watched the Berenstain Bears and Little Bear this morning, and I had all these memories washing over me.  Hoping my Winnie the Pooh stuffed toy would talk to me like he did to Christopher Robin, watching my favourite shows after school before naps, and on the days I didn’t nap I’d sneak around and turn on the TV to watch.  I’d remember getting creeped out by characters I didn’t like and singing along to songs I’d hear over and over.)

Sometimes, it’s both heartening and saddening to think about, because then you have to pause and think about a time that was, at one point, so much simpler and so, so short.  But even if they’re just memories, they’re yours to cherish and keep and share.

Having a childhood is one of the most precious things on this planet.  Anything else that could be more important I can honestly say I could count on my hands.