Once Upon A Time

Once upon a time there was an old house deep in the woods far, far away from the snaking pavements and towering bricks and hasty masses. In the old house lived a little family and a few mice (who were never sewn little sweaters or hats and were only ever named Disgusting). The family spent many days and nights happily together in their home, always having a sense of safety and encircled in light and beauty.

One day a stranger knocked on their door. As the great protector of their home, the father went to answer. In a whirlwind of unexpected horror, the father was overtaken and dragged away from the little house deep in the woods. The children cried, the loving wife cried, the mice scampered (rudely). A darkness snuffed out the beauty and light, leaving a smoldering of fear and heartache to drift around them.

Many dark moments and hours passed in that old house. The mother tried to be brave. The children tried to be brave. With every passing day the bravery seemed harder to find. Unwilling to allow the darkness to suffocate them, the mother went in search of beauty. Wandering along the familiar path behind their home, she followed the quiet until she finally reached the magical trickle of Living Water pouring from the ancient rock. Bending down to feel the wet slip over her fingers, the mother cupped the coolness and sipped the life. Then she pulled a jug from her satchel and filled it full, intending to take some home to her children.

When she arrived home, the children were overjoyed to see their mother. With a sparkle in her eye, the mother went straight to the cupboard and pulled three glasses from the shelf. Carefully, she filled each glass and in hopeful smile handed each to her waiting children. With wonder, the children swallowed the soothing cool. As the Living Water streamed through them, sparkles filled their eyes. They began to see beauty all around them. A contented breath exhaled as they felt safety encircling them. Delight was rediscovered. Hope sprouted deep inside -- hope of welcoming their father home again, hope of dancing in merriment and celebration, hope of the mice leaving and never returning again. 

From that day forward, the mother and the children walked to the ancient rock where they drank from the magical trickle of Living Water. On their walks to and fro, they hunted for beauty to bring inside and they watched eagerly for their father's return. (And never once did they share the water with the mice or take them on their walks to and fro. because, well...)

Have you ever put of a version of your life in fairy tale? Try it sometime. It's kind of fun and helps lighten things up a bit!