there was once upon a time a little girl who lived in a far, far away land. this girl was the most naive of all girls, like all girls are when they are seven years old, and live in the country. she was the kind of little girl who threw little chicks up in the air so that they could fly, the kind of little girl that planted coins, so that they could grow, the kind of little girl who did not know where babies came from. she was a little girl who liked to sit around the fireplace and listen to stories being told. she was a little girl who though all children were evil. she was screamed and yelled at by the grown ups for all the silly things she did. still, she liked the stories, she loved the stories.
then she learned to read, she learned to read very fast. she learned to read much faster than she learned to talk. she read all the books in the house, she went to the library and she read more books. history she could not understand, history made no sense. she preferred the stories, the fables, the tales, the fantastic, the what if... of it all, the wonder of abstraction, the passion of fantasy. that was her world.
she wanted to grow up, then she imagined that she would not be so bad. the grown-ups, oh those! they were perfect. they were always telling her all the things that she did wrong. then there was this thing with religion, catechism, and the whole shebang of what the church harbored besides pipe organs and the most uncomfortable seats. she went to the catechism and never understood a word of it, none of it made sense. she felt that she needed warmth and care, but that was nowhere. the grown ups were kind and generous and gave presents of food and clothes to the needy, but no, she had no right to any of it. she did not understand. the little girl like the sound of the pipe organs, she could listen, and listening she forgot.
she wanted to be a storyteller. the grown ups did not like storytellers, they liked doctors and lawyers, engineers and more doctors. if no storytelling, what about plowing the fields? she wanted to be a farmer. no. girls do not become farmers. she wanted to build houses, she wanted to draw, she wanted to paint. the grown ups were not listening. nobody listened to the little girl.
(to be continued)
