12 September 2011

September Snapshot: The Storyteller

This is a picture of my then three year old daughter during early morning play. I took this same image over and over again through the years. We used film then. A single shot, results days if not weeks later. When I saw this one, I remember calling it "the storyteller." There she was, little sleepy-fine-curly-girl hair and pink rosebud thermal pajamas, snuggled up in my unmade bed, she lined up her babies and read them a story. She knew her books by heart so it didn't even matter if the book was turned upside down.She would tell that story with voices, inflections and sounds.

I thought then that she would be a teacher or somehow part of whatever she would eventually chose. I was afraid to tell her that for fear of influencing her. It is so easy for a child to uptake a truth and follow it, without it being the truth. Turns out, the story in that picture does seem to be her truth. My husband has two grown daughters and says that he can look at them today and see the same toddler they once were. It seems it may be true for my daughter as well.

Allie was always such a mother hen. She would come in from first grade and tell me with great concern and dismay that so and so's mother needs to send her to school in a coat. Some might call that maternal, others may see that as a leadership quality. Frankly she might be bossy, but she always looks for improvement that allows the best environment for learning, play or spirit to occur.

I suppose if I could go back and get a few minutes with my daughter as a little girl, it might just be this particular morning she was reading to her "kids." I would take her up, put my nose right into the back of her neck and squeeze those little fleshy thighs right through the waffle weave of those rosebud PJ's. I would swing her around and hold her tight. She would throw her mouth open, her head back and laugh. Except for much more mature straightened hair and a floral skirt, she still is that same spirit, surrounding herself with little kids at her after school job, reading to them, telling them a story, no doubt checking their work. Maybe even sending a note home to a mother about the chill in the air and the need for a good jacket. Running, throwing her head back, mouth open, laughing.


  1. oh robin, reading this about your little story teller takes me back when my daughter was small and so acutely aware, aware of everything...they grow up so quickly, but, i remember those moments and i smile. thank you! franc

  2. Oh Robin, she is so sweet. I can't believe how fast they grow. My little girl is almost 3 and it seems like yesterday I felt like the wait for her would never end. She has now been with us for almost 2 yrs. My son is grown and is a wonderful man. If only we could go back in time. Sigh.

  3. Is this the sweetest post I've ever read in the history of my blogging adventure? Yes, I do believe it is.

  4. You my dear, are the storyteller! You have a gift for writing. Every time I read one of your posts something stirs in me. That is when you know that this person has the talent to tell stories.
    Your daughter is a beauty...just like her mom!
    sending hugs...

  5. There are several lessons here and validations as well, thanks for this!

    You are a great human/parent for letting her flourish.


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