A Clown

My mom gave this clown to my Grandmother many years ago.  When my Mom saw my Grandma eying the adorable figurine she did that thing that my Mom did so well.  She surprised my Grandmother with a gift. . . the clown. 

Just a few days ago,  a white box with Charlie’s name on it arrived at our front door. Charlie opened the box and was immediately captivated by this intense looking clown.  The clown came with an envelope that describes how the clown came to my Grandmother. . . a gift from her daughter. . . from Charlie’s Noni.  Charlie quickly made his way to his room and picked a spot for his clown.  Charlie told me, I love my clown. . . it will never be broken.  When his friends come over, Charlie is excited. . . want to see my clown? 

My little guy carries it around like a trophy.

I think Charlie gets it. . . he understands that the clown is more than a clown. . . it’s a story.  I have a feeling that this little clown will be with him throughout his life.  I have a feeling that he will tell and retell the story behind the clown.  He knows that he not only must protect the clown, he must protect the story.

I’m reminded of the importance of telling our stories. . . to our kids and to each other.  We all have them.  Story after story just begging to be told.  I believe there is power in the telling of our stories.

Simple, I know. . . but I believe it. . .