“May you always see the world through the eyes of a child.” --CJ Heck
I love to write about children. I love watching them and seeing how they pretend. They're so good at it, too, and it amazes me how real that made up world is to them when they go there.
According to my grandchildren, some of their friends’ parents see pretending as a waste of their child’s time. That’s such a travesty. Pretending is a natural part of childhood. It's how they try on a looming grownup world to see how it will fit.
When my three daughters were small, one of their favorite things to pretend was living in a world high in the sky they called Skyland. Skyland was the couch, couch cushions, chairs, tables, the ottoman … anything higher than, and off of, the floor. You never knew when you walked into a room what you might find, but it was usually something that would put you in grave and imminent danger.
“Mama, no! You’re almost stepping into a hot river of lava (or quicksand, or a flood)! Stop right there. We’ll have to save you!” Or, “Mama, there’s a huge forest fire over there! Everything around you is on fire and burning up. Stop and we’ll send a helicopter to save you!”
Skyland began to expand as they pretended. By stacking couch cushions, or bed pillows, they could become jet planes, or buildings, or anything else they needed at the moment. I watched them learn that change is good. Each childhood expansion readied them further for the eventual arrival of the grownup world.
When I was a child, I remember pretending I could fly. I wanted it to be real so I could fly away to the magic land of Neverland and live with Peter Pan and the lost boys. I would be just like them and never grow up. It was sad, but I learned there are some things we just have to leave behind. They will always remain pretend.
Now I just pretend my problems will shrink and be easier to handle …