The blog for editorial consideration of topics from "a" to "z" to stimulate your further investigation and to draw your comments.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
When I was young, my world was a perfectly round blue crystal marble. A toy of wonder and beauty, I would show it to my friends and, in turn, they would show me their aggies, bumblebees, cat's eyes, and steelies. I put my world in my pocket and carried it with me every day, safe from harm and thievery. Sometimes, I felt in my pocket to be sure my world was still there secure and protected. I was careful not to mar it or blemish it in any way. When my world needed a little shining, I lightly buffed its surface with a soft cloth to remove any prints or smudges that might decrease its original, beautiful luster.
My world was not a shooter; it was far too precious to knuckle down and fire into another marble in a game of ringer. And it was never offerred as a keepsy in the ring to others who might toss it carelessly into a bag as just another conquest. Instead, my world was a keepsake, and other than admiration, had no utility. I doubt if it was worth much to anyone else but me; however, to me, my world had not one single imperfection. I was determined to keep my world that way forever: bright and colorful.
After a time, my world grew too large for my pocket. As it grew, I began to notice some minor imperfections in it. I hated to admit my world was imperfect after all, but I had no choice. My world was still amazingly brilliant and round, yet pitted and scarred with small flaws. And, I had taken such pains to take care of it. I wondered why I had never noticed its true nature before, but I was getting older and, frankly, I was not admiring marbles that much any more.
I no longer could carry my world with me. It seemed now to dwarf me instead. As my world continued to grow and grow, I continued to view its content with unbelieving eyes. Had my world ever been perfect or had I just been seeing it with foolish, childish eyes? Too huge for me to care for, I totally lost contact with my world. My world had changed so much I couldn't have recognized it anyway.
I guess I'll never know what happened to my world. I do miss it every once and awhile when I long to tuck everything neatly into my pocket for safekeeping. But, it was just a toy then, an object meant for child's play. I realize that now because my world has grown too big to comprehend. Before my perception matured and before my world somehow grew, a marble meant so much: my world meant so much. If I could find it now, I would know it's just a marble.
If you see a child who shows you his perfect world, be kind. Admire it and assure him he possesses the finest world possible. You see, the child knows about perfection and values its concept, no matter how immature this seems. He needs his world to be small, beautiful, secure, and easily manageable. Too soon he will lose interest in marbles and his world will grow immense. Too soon he will discover he must change as his world also must change.
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