Nine kids tromped up and down the stairs at random
intervals, leaving a trail of fallen pretzels in their wake. Adults sat in a circle of furniture listening
politely and with interest to the author’s introduction.
Someone fell on the stairs, someone else fed a handful of
pretzels to the dog, and the kids continued to swirl as kids do, moving in
clumps throughout the house. Then the
reading began. The story slipped like
spider silk from the author’s lips, spinning a web over the room as words
danced from corner to corner.
The children paused and grew still. Drawn like magnets, their bottoms settled
along the stairs, faces peeking through the railing. As the story grew, my two oldest kids burst
into the circle of adults. First Solomon
came and backed himself into my lap. My
arms settled around his middle like a seat belt.
How long has it been since he sat with me that way? He stayed there through the whole chapter,
tucked into me, even though his best friends from church and school were there
too. By the time we got to the part about the ghost, Sophia flew into the circle and belly flopped on the carpet.
Story applies a centripetal force
on its hearers, drawing us closer and closer to the source. Even the most wily among us – children and adults – are not immune to its powers. This is what I’m thinking of this week as we head into one of the Christian church’s most storied times of the year – the power of story to draw us to the teller, to still our souls and bodies, to open doors we didn’t know were closed.
When the chapter ended, the reading ended, the spell broke and
the kids scattered like dandelion fluff, consuming more pretzels, begging for another brownie and clamoring up and down the stairs again. Almost as though they’d never stopped.
* * *
We finally have a #SmallWonder button! If you want to use it, simply copy the image, then add it to your post or sidebar with a link to www.afieldofwildflowers.blogspot.com.
Welcome to the #SmallWonder link-up.
What if we chose to deliberately look for small moments of wonder, the small sparks of presence, of delight or sorrow, of true humanity in which we meet God?
That’s my proposal – that we gather here each week to share one moment of Wonder from each of our days. You’re invited to link-up a brief post about a small moment of wonder. Don’t worry if your post is too long, too short, or not just right – you’re welcome to come as you are.
While you’re here, please do take a look around and encourage at least one other blogger with a comment.