Why Adults Can’t Handle Fairy Tales

There are many adults who are afraid that kids can’t handle traditional fairy tales, because they are too scary, too gruesome, too awful. I think it’s actually because on a certain level, they are too real. And many of us adults can’t handle real life.

I used to wonder why fairy tales so often were about orphans, or kids whose one parent had died, leaving them in the hands of someone who despised them. Think Hansel and Gretel, Snow White or Rapunzel. Or why they had to fight evil beasts and monsters, like the dragon in Sleeping Beauty. But now I think I understand better why.

Fairy tales can help children realize that life is going to be full of challenges, that it will contain suffering, that sometimes they will feel rejected and alone. But it is also about the triumph of the little guy, the unexpected hero, like in Jack and the Beanstalk. It is about perseverance, guts and hope.

How necessary it is for us to have hope! To believe in the triumph of good over evil, and the certainly of justice, even if that justice is very long in coming.

But now we often prefer to sugar-coat these dramatic tales. We try to cover up the bad bits. “They will be too scary,” we think. Will they be any scarier than real life? How will our kids cope with that?

Our modern western world is so poorly equipped to deal with suffering, because we so seldom have to deal with it in a really dramatic way. We are generally comfortable, have food, shelter, clothes, etc. Not that many people we know are eaten by dragons. Not that many people we know die. So when they do it’s a shock.

It didn’t use to be this way. Not that long ago people knew that things like infant death were a common part of life. They accepted that they needed to work from dawn till dusk, and often be away from their families. They knew that an illness could steal away a loved one like a thief in the night. Now we like to pretend this can’t happen, at least not to us. “La, la, la, la, it’s not real,” we sing and cover our eyes to the possibility of such a loss.

But it’s a delusion. Life is very fragile. It is very precious. It is a gift that can be revoked at any time. Losing a baby in labour taught me this. And as crushing as this loss is, my little one also teaches me—shouts loudly in her silence—that it is of utmost importance to hope. To have faith in something greater than these struggles here below. To know that love is stronger than death. To know that happiness here is complicated, and that our true happiness is yet to come.

So when you feel overwhelmed, remember the fairy tales. Put on your knight’s costume, mount your steed, and ride off into the sunset to face your dragons. Even if they consume you, you will triumph, if you don’t lose hope. It’s that golden thread that connects us to Heaven. It’s our strength in weakness and pain.

And if you meet a weary traveller along the way, someone who is laden down with suffering, help them carry their burden. Offer your heart to help carry some of that weight oppressing theirs. Reach out and cheer them on. In your mercy, in your tenderness, in your affection, you will bring them hope. And the quest to bring more hope to a struggling world is surely an ideal noble enough for all of us.

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PS These gorgeous swords were lovingly handmade by my talented step-dad Rob Koenig!

The Mystery of Losing a Little One

Today I want to share with you an article I recently wrote about losing my little Josephine during labour. I’ve had a hard time doing much narrative about this event, and have mostly blogged poetry since it occurred, as it felt like a safer way to express myself somehow.

But I really felt called to share my experience and to reach out to other bereaved parents, so I was very pleased when the paper accepted my article. I’m posting the link to it in honour of a dear friend who lost her baby son three years ago today. Perhaps you can all send a little extra prayer her way. The pain of losing a little one comes and goes in waves, and I imagine it might be stronger again today. Honouring this in some way is part of healing.

The Mystery of Losing a Little One

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So to all bereaved parents, I send you my deepest condolences, and stand with you in your pain. May you know that your children are still an amazing gift, and that you have been for them not so much a place of death, as a gate to Heaven.

May our little stars shine forth with their pure, sweet light and ever guide us home.

Love from Your Hands

What is essence of my belief?

That this love which has been
surrounding me so strongly
ultimately comes from somewhere
Someone
and
that’s where we’ll return

To the origin of love
The creator of closeness
The one who makes us all kindred

The one who makes this vast universe
to quote Chesterton
a place cosy and dear

Signs of Sweetness

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Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal.
St. Thomas Moore

So many signs of tenderness continue to pour in, along with meals and assurances of prayers, as we grieve the sudden loss of our baby Josephine during labour three weeks ago. We are so blessed by these many signs of sweetness. Thank you to everyone who has shown us such generosity and support. God is finding so many ways to say “I love you” to us every day.
Here are pictures of a few:

Two dozen gorgeous pink roses sent to our door from a couple in our parish:
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A single perfect rose left anonymously at her grave:

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A plant for me to take care of, called a Josephine:

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All who have been touched by beauty are touched by sorrow at it’s passing.
Louise Cordana

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Lend me your hope for awhile. A time will come when I will heal, and lend my renewed hope to others.
Eloise Cole

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When you are sorrowful, look again in your heart. You shall see in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
Khalil Gibran

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Josephine Pilar, our sweet little star, we are so grateful for you! We will love you forever!

Recipe for Recovery

Hug your toddler
Kiss your husband

Drink some coffee
Call your best friend

Listen to music so
You can sing in the rain

Brush your teeth
Smile again

Eat cookies
Do it all again

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Josephine

Josephine flashed before us
with the brightness and beauty
of a shooting star

Our hearts are broken by the briefness
of her visit with us

She has climbed onto our Father God’s lap
and is whispering to him our secrets
with sweet confidence
Speak to her in your hearts
the only language she will ever know is love

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Carry Me

You carry me above the waters
lest I drown in my sorrows

And it is safe
to let my heart break
because it falls
into your hands

And though it feels
shattered and broken
yet your love
my heart can heal

So carry me
above the waters
and make my heart
arise anew

A Small Step

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A small step
in the midst of great difficulties
can be a miracle

The heroic efforts of a bumble bee
more impressive
than a charging rhino kicking up dust
all show

It’s not perfection
but struggle that matters
not impressive credentials
but the straining of the heart
towards something truly beautiful

living a life of love
full of little sacrifices
getting up again and again

Keep trying
keep smiling
remember the ideal
that sets fire to your heart

Never let discouragement
drown the flames altogether

Blow on that ember of hope
Remember who you are

Forget trying to please others
modifying yourself to be more palatable to them

You can never please anyone
by pretending

It’s better to go down in flames
like a shooting star
completely crazy
but lighting up the world
with your own form of madness

You will inspire
or you will be despised
but at least you will be you

There are worse things
than being rejected

First Snowdrop: Tiny Signs of Spring

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This beautiful delicate snowdrop, pushing its way out of the rubble of mushy brown leaves, sticks and manure, to let its little pure white head glow in the sunlight, is a sweet sign that spring is slowly coming, that hope for renewal after winter is alive. A sign that even when life makes us face our worst fears, such as the death of a loved one, we can come out of the haze of sadness with eyes that still see the beauty of the world.

I dedicate this picture to my great friend and fellow blogger Monique Leblanc, the one who inspired me to begin sharing my adventures in Crazyland. I offer it for her especially, because she recently passed the due date of her son Hilary, who was born asleep half way through her pregnancy. His appearance was like this snowdrop, brief and achingly beautiful.

I offer it also because she has recently moved from the balmy west coast to the frozen (but friendly!) fields of Saskatchewan, and is much more likely to be seeing snow ploughs than snow drops at this time. The great thing is that she thinks this is fun! 🙂

I want to honour her unfailing friendship, her joyful sense of adventure, and her great dedication to her family. She has been for years, and always will be, a wonderful inspiration for me. She embraced me and believed in me when we first became friends, and has never ceased to love and encourage me. Cicero said so poignantly:

What sweetness is left in life if you take away friendship? Robbing the world of friendship is like robbing the world of the sun.

I was afraid of losing her closeness when she moved away, but instead feel closer to her than ever, thanks to the phone, and her uncanny ability to know when I just really need to talk to her. As Anne Shirley said so well: “True friends are always together in spirit.”

Blogging has also helped us to stay close as we try our hands at writing and jump into this wonderful online community together. Check out the awesome blog she writes with her husband Ryan at thelasttimechange.blogspot.ca/

Life can be tough, but if you have a good friend to laugh and even cry with, everything is ok. It gives life a stability that can sustain you through the roughest waters, and help you laugh over your little daily disasters with someone who knows you better than you know yourself. Our old buddy Cicero agrees:

Friendship improves happiness and abates misery, by the doubling of our joy and the dividing of our grief.

I hope all of you have friends like this. Have you told them lately how much they mean to you?

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Broken Light

This is a poem I wrote months ago, and finally decided to publish, being in a sufficiently melodramatic mood after a long day.  Funny how poetry brings out our inner opera star sometimes…Anyway, I wasn’t able to sleep and got up to clean the kitchen a bit to get sleepy.  My efforts in late night cleaning resulted in accidentally knocking a glass pitcher out of the cupboards at midnight…SMASH! on the tile floor…overheard by my landlord upstairs…Should have stuck to my initial plan to read a good book and eat ice cream instead!

Broken Light

Some days I can do nothing;
everything I try to fix breaks.

Hands reaching out to heal
make things crumble instead;
fingers try to caress but leave a bruise.

Words meant to help leave scars of pain,
wounds unhealing and unforgotten.

How can I go so wrong?
Intending to care
but causing anger, offense, insult…

It is clear I can do nothing.

Lord, from this hollow emptiness
bring fullness of life,
from my stumbling failures bring fruit.
Make all things new,
from death bring life.

Help me to embrace
the silence of my nothingness.

Help me become an instrument
forged in fires of humiliation,
not broken but smoothed,
docile to your inspirations,
attentive to the needs of others
and passionate for my own duties
brightening my tiny corner of the world.