Symphony of the Story

Where have all the storytellers gone? I see visions of the grandfatherly figure with the 3rd generation-ers gathered around him. Excited and enthralled by the words streaming from the pale and parched lips. Words tumble easily, in multitudes - as many as the weathered lines and wrinkles upon his inviting face. Words that engage in a celebratory dance winding around adventures and victories - in a land where dreams come true, heroes reign, and cherished princesses are saved.

Weaving tales as expertly as a spider constructing an intricate web - though not for prey and the wrapping of dead bodies which become its food. But intertwining conquests and love for family, friends and fellow man. Adventures on the high seas, in a new land or the backyard where magical creatures and fairies have now appeared. The diversion from lifes' struggles and realities - a moment in time where the main character plows through adversity and finds beauty; or, seeks earnestly and finds treasure.

Excitement builds and meets satisfaction. The heart is filled a bit, time was suspended awhile, and with the best of the best  - an unsuspected lesson is learned, valuable knowledge gained. Subtly received and never forced but seared upon the mind in a way that leads the hearer to believe that ANYTHING is possible. And for these moments, at the feet of a storyteller, it is. When these moments culminate into a belief that life truly is limitless. That the parameters placed so long ago, are formed in our own minds alone, they can be moved any time  & anywhere we wish.... to tell stories of our own


Highland Springs, VA

I'm 55 yrs old - Balt'more born, toes dipped in Philadelphia, Mississippi bred, and now transplanted in Virginia. Married 27 years and proud Mom of two adult daughters. Also, one grandchild who personifies her middle name - Joy.

Madelyn TreadwellComment