Skip to main content

A Perfect Story

Once upon a time, in a perfect world, lived a young family. Because everything in this world was perfect, the family was perfect too. A strong father, a kind mother, and a sweet daughter. They lived together in a perfect little house made out of logs with window shutters the color of the sky. They mother and daughter spent their day tending the gardens and the house, riding through the fields on their horses, and most importantly, waiting with anticipation for father to come home from work. When he was home, things were even more, if possible, perfect.

There was an old, old,very old oak tree behind their little house, and at his broad base grew a patch of wild roses. The roses were perfect as can be, or so everyone thought. One day, the daughter was out playing and she decided to pick one of the roses to bring home to mother. As she skipped up to the oak, she noticed suddenly that it seemed to be leaning over the roses, almost sheltering them. She wondered why the old oak was being protective. Perhaps he didn't want her to pick a rose! She thought about it for a while, and then thought about how beautiful and perfect the pale red rose would look in her mother's kitchen. She gathered up her courage and ran up to the rose and grabbed it off the bush. She gave a shriek of surprise and of pain, because the rose had a thorn and a drop of blood glittered like a tiny brilliant ruby on her finger. This was not a perfect rose! The oak seemed to shake his branches in displeasure and the daughter with one last glance at the tree, took off running back home. The rose was put into a vase on the kitchen counter and though it did look marvelous, it somehow, was not perfect because of the band-aid that now sat on the daughter's finger.

After this, life went on in the normal way, but slowly, things started changing. Life didn't seem quite the same. Some days, the daughter noticed sadness on her parent's faces. Finally, after asking them about it, she discovered that her parents desired another child. A sibling for her to love and share. This seemed like a perfect addition to their family. The only problem was, that there was no child to be had. After many years of watching her parents slowly loose hope, the daughter went back to the old oak tree. The tree still stood, broad and craggy, protecting its little bush of fragile, yet very thorny roses. Please, she begged the old oak, is there anyway that my parents can get their wish? The oak rustled his leaves, and she heard the wind say as it was passing through, yes, yes, yes. She clapped her hands in joy, but then the oak grew still and as it creaked, the earth seemed to say as it trembled, it's hard, it's hard, it's hard, imperfect, imperfect, imperfect. The daughter was confused, and a little bit angry, how could things be hard and imperfect in this perfect world? She went home and forgot all about it.

One day, when it wasn't early, but wasn't too late yet the mother and father finally were granted a child. They were ecstatic because finally their heart's wish was coming true. But somehow, for some reason, things were not perfect. Something unfathomable happened, and their brand new baby, the one that was supposed to make everything more perfect, was very wrong. How could it have happened, the family cried, how? That night, the daughter took her baby brother to the oak tree. She laid down a sheepskin next to the rose bush, and put the sad and fitful infant upon it. The mother and father watched her and for the first time in their lives, felt real fear and grief. Why, why, their hearts cried, why? The oak swayed and creaked, but the wind and earth was silent.

Everything was still.  A crimson drop fell from the daughter's finger as she gently put a rose next to the baby. Then they heard the wind: Yes? It seemed to ask. A question, and it demanded an answer: yes? Can they, will they, except imperfection into their life? Can they, will they, learn to love unconditionally, against all odds, against the expected norms of their perfect world? Can they, will they, make the imperfect perfect through acceptance? The baby on the grass at the foot of the oak raised his eyes up to where the branches met the sky and the family saw the stars twinkling in his bright blue irises. The oak shook and creaked, and then, when the mother, father, and daughter knelt by him, next to the precious son lying in the grass, he sheltered his branches over them and kept them safe from the cold night air.  For each beat in their hearts seemed to say, yes, yes, YES!


Comments

  1. Thank you for this little poetic fairy tale! Very uplifting and inspiring!

    ~ If everything is imperfect in this imperfect world, love is most perfect in its perfect imperfection ~ Gunnar Bjornstrand

    ReplyDelete
  2. Beautiful story. It reminds me about Grimm's fairy tales. If you have time, you can read them to Nika, you will enjoy them, too.
    In the last posting (not in the first time) you were concerned about Leo's development predictions. Why do you want to know it? It will be a surprise. At on hand, you cannot control it, on another hand you can do a lot to help him develop. For example, when you do finger games (like Itsy - Bitsy Spider) and he will do it with you moving his small fingers, his brain will develop more actively. There is research that says that small finger movements stimulate brain development. You can try simple puzzles and practice what sounds do animals make (as an example) - that is language development. There are lots of activities in books. Look what Leo likes, do it with him and extend it. Nika might be even more successful that her parents.
    If you need more ideas you are welcome to write me. My address is bezmenova@cox.net.
    Warm wishes,
    Varya

    ReplyDelete
  3. This story is absolutely beautiful. You are talented. And the pictures are just as beautiful. You really should have that printed up in a cute little book with the pics. Tells your story well.
    Amazing. :)
    Tina

    ReplyDelete
  4. What a beautiful way to tell your story, Anna! I just caught up on the past 3 posts, because we have had intermittent internet access here in Michigan. But you are in our thoughts and prayers! When Lucia saw the toothy grin pictures, she said "Look Mama, two Wee-ohs in carseats!" I hope we can see you all again SOON. Love and prayers.

    Lydia, Taylor & Lucia

    ReplyDelete
  5. Learning to look beyond our experiences and senses to what is truly real is a gift from God! May God continue to keep you focused so you can continue sharing your stories--helping us stay focused on Him as well!

    Debbie

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Pharmaceutical Fallout

I'm sure you guys are wondering what's been up with the Lion this past week after our worrisome VEEG adventure.  To tell you the truth, I feel like I've been taking shots of Leo's drugs and consequently feel dull and numb and just plain depressed. That is now of course, two days ago I was running high on adrenalin and resembled a charging rhino. I'll tell you why: So after being put on his new drug, Trileptal, Leo definitely started having a cessation of seizure activity, unfortunately however, he also started having severe headaches, photophobia, inconsolable crying and then in the last couple of days, a rash on his thighs, face, and hands. Just as an FYI the word "rash" is a magic word that will open the doors of the medical castle faster and slicker than a trojan horse. It's true, one does not mess about with allergic reactions. He was seen by his neuro within the hour, and after some bullying and grilling from yours truly, the action plan was det…

Not Your Average Special

Leo. This kid. Honestly? Life with the lion can be quantified in two parts: into a simple 60/40 equation. The 40 being the happy normal parent feelings, and the 60 being sheer exhaustion, confusion, worry, and what-the-hell-is-it-now feelings.  All normal right? Just another day in parent land. Wrong. I have always been an advocate for down-playing the special neediness of special needs. Yeah, yeah we all think we are special in our own unique hardships, get over it. We all have crap in our lives to deal with. But I might be starting to change my outlook.  Just a bit. Case in point: Leo and consequently me and everyone else who lives with him, have now been dealing with daily seizures for well over a year. Ok it doesn't sound that bad, when you string the words together and type it out into a sentence; there are way more scary sentences out there like "your child has a terminal brain defect" sentence etc etc. That sounds way more scary than daily seizures. This I know f…

The Rhythm of Life

When I think of the word rhythm, what comes foremost to my mind is a picture of my grandpa's metronome. My grandpa, when he lived in Russia, was a fairly well known voice professor who dedicated his whole life to the perfection and instruction of the human voice. As long as the human in question was applying said voice to opera and only opera, that is. Opera, in my grandpa's mind, was the only music worth bothering with. All other music he condescendingly referred to as "the bebop" with a lot of Russian eye rolling and sighing. He taught me about rhythm by sticking his old wooden metronome on the edge of his piano, and commanded me to never take my eyes off it during the whole voice lesson. Since it was conveniently eye level to my ten year old self it was pretty easy to get completely mesmerized watching the little weighted metal stick swish side to side, side to side, side to side.  I'm thinking now, almost twenty years later, that it may have been part of gra…