Post by thewisefarmer on Dec 5, 2017 19:05:59 GMT
PRINCE
I was only two years old, but even at that age, I was letting the world know I was going to be three in the spring.
Christmas eve was a time to go to Grandma's.
My Grandmother knew my heart well.
I never liked dolls, yet alas being a girl I was often given girly things. I wanted a dog. My brother's allergies prevent us having a live dog, but I deeply wanted a dog - A Prince of my own. Grandma knew me, so even as a small child I loved going to her home, especially for Christmas.
The home had a huge porch. Four thousand steps up the stairs lead to the porch that was the size of a hundred football fields. Strange how small it all actually was when I saw the house as an adult. Even in a red velvet dress with enough petticoats to challenge a square dancer, my black patent shoes and white stocking chilled legs climbed the Everest before me with ease. "To Grandmother's house we go!"
The smell of Christmas, sweet peppermint and evergreen merging with turkey and pumpkin, filled my Grandmother's house. The tree was bigger than the tallest redwood. Lights and presents filled my eyes with wonder and joy.
Dinner and laughter were always a part of the holiday at Grandma's.
This Christmas was one of my earliest memories. This was the Christmas I recieved my Prince doggie toy.
I have a clear memory of opening the box. The stuffed dog had floppy ears and soft fur. But what I remember was the eyes. They actually opened and closed. Like diamonds, they glistened in the richness of dreams. A perfect Prince indeed.
My tiny hand reached out to touch one of the eyes. My brother whomped into me and I fell forward. My finger went forcefully right into the eye and in an instant it flipped backward in the toy's head. Tears flooded my eyes, my perfect Prince was ruined.
My grandmother taught me in her great wisdom that we were all created perfect, but real love loves us in the inperfection too. Love is not based on what is on the outside.
Many many years later, my foster child sat by me as I sorted through the box of memories. I pulled a rag of the once beautiful dog from the box. There was no stuffing left and the fur was worn off. One eye still blinked, but the other was still a turned back hollow. I looked with loving eyes at my old friend.
Laughter came from my child. "What is that?" was snicked.
"This is Prince!"
The laughter increased to a belly laugh. "Prince?"
"One day you will understand. Prince was created as a perfect Prince. Life has caused him great damage, but my love has never failed him." I looked at the child and said, "You see I know the great Prince that lives within him."
Tears flowed down the cheeks of the child. "That is why you love me too, Isn't it?"
The rag of once a most beautiful creation is still cherished by me. Love is not based on perfection. Love sees the true Prince that lives inside the rag.
A kiss was placed on the dog and a tender touch to the damaged eye. Then a kiss was placed on the child entrusted to me. "You are beautiful, my child!"
I was only two years old, but even at that age, I was letting the world know I was going to be three in the spring.
Christmas eve was a time to go to Grandma's.
My Grandmother knew my heart well.
I never liked dolls, yet alas being a girl I was often given girly things. I wanted a dog. My brother's allergies prevent us having a live dog, but I deeply wanted a dog - A Prince of my own. Grandma knew me, so even as a small child I loved going to her home, especially for Christmas.
The home had a huge porch. Four thousand steps up the stairs lead to the porch that was the size of a hundred football fields. Strange how small it all actually was when I saw the house as an adult. Even in a red velvet dress with enough petticoats to challenge a square dancer, my black patent shoes and white stocking chilled legs climbed the Everest before me with ease. "To Grandmother's house we go!"
The smell of Christmas, sweet peppermint and evergreen merging with turkey and pumpkin, filled my Grandmother's house. The tree was bigger than the tallest redwood. Lights and presents filled my eyes with wonder and joy.
Dinner and laughter were always a part of the holiday at Grandma's.
This Christmas was one of my earliest memories. This was the Christmas I recieved my Prince doggie toy.
I have a clear memory of opening the box. The stuffed dog had floppy ears and soft fur. But what I remember was the eyes. They actually opened and closed. Like diamonds, they glistened in the richness of dreams. A perfect Prince indeed.
My tiny hand reached out to touch one of the eyes. My brother whomped into me and I fell forward. My finger went forcefully right into the eye and in an instant it flipped backward in the toy's head. Tears flooded my eyes, my perfect Prince was ruined.
My grandmother taught me in her great wisdom that we were all created perfect, but real love loves us in the inperfection too. Love is not based on what is on the outside.
Many many years later, my foster child sat by me as I sorted through the box of memories. I pulled a rag of the once beautiful dog from the box. There was no stuffing left and the fur was worn off. One eye still blinked, but the other was still a turned back hollow. I looked with loving eyes at my old friend.
Laughter came from my child. "What is that?" was snicked.
"This is Prince!"
The laughter increased to a belly laugh. "Prince?"
"One day you will understand. Prince was created as a perfect Prince. Life has caused him great damage, but my love has never failed him." I looked at the child and said, "You see I know the great Prince that lives within him."
Tears flowed down the cheeks of the child. "That is why you love me too, Isn't it?"
The rag of once a most beautiful creation is still cherished by me. Love is not based on perfection. Love sees the true Prince that lives inside the rag.
A kiss was placed on the dog and a tender touch to the damaged eye. Then a kiss was placed on the child entrusted to me. "You are beautiful, my child!"