I grew up with the idea of “happily ever after” firmly implanted in my mind, thanks to Walt Disney and Rodgers & Hammerstein. At the tender young age of five, my parents took me to see the original animated version of “Cinderella” (you do the math…) and suddenly, imagination merged with illustration. The prospect of mice doing housework and that blue dress and the injustice of ugly step-sisters intrigued me, albeit in cartoon form. I also acquired a theme song — for weeks afterward, I sang “Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo” (or as much of it as I could remember) and life was good.
Fast forward a couple of years… Lithe, graceful Lesley Ann Warren lit up the TV screen in the real-life version of “Cinderella,” complete with heart-stirring songs and an even prettier dress. She tackled housework without the assistance of rodents and Prince Charming lived up to his name, given the fact that he was only 19 inches tall. My imagination was elevated to an even higher level — I could now picture myself as “her” (although lithe and graceful were seldom used to describe my countenance…) and I latched onto a new theme song: “In my own little corner, in my own little chair, I can be whatever I want to be-e-e-e…” Such are the flights of fancy of youth.
It took another thirty-odd years to outgrow Cinderella syndrome, but I finally figured out two things: 1) God is in charge of “happily ever after,” and 2) mice don’t do housework. I also learned that dreaming about doing something is less productive than actually doing something about your dreams. Fast forward to present day…
Up until now, I’ve given you glimpses of my outside life — the lake, a few flowers, etc. — but today I felt compelled to share “my own little corner” with you.
This is as real as it gets. Every day I’m surrounded by “My Favorite Things” (oops — wrong musical, but still a favorite!), including books that I love, gifts that I treasure and just enough clutter to remind me that dreaming is part of “who I am,” even if it doesn’t get the housework done. Blame it on lazy mice.