I remember the first books I read as a young child
I became a part of the beauty of words and magic of far off places for a while
I lived in castles with roaring fires in winter months, warm and cozy
I ran through lush, green meadows in summer, my cheeks rosy
I wore long frocks made of silks and satins
I held up my skirts and petticoats while crossing crisp, cool rapids
I used to think I had been born in the wrong century
I knew I would return to the medieval times eventually
For that is where I belonged
Was I wrong?
No, not really–we can go anywhere and experience anything
Our imagination is the strongest part of our mind
And we can live in any place and time
Just by opening a book or tapping the screen of our tablet
The happiness and wisdom of a child is within us; Let’s Go!
Forever young at heart.
It is a real shame more people can’t share Deborah’s love to live life rather than to exist.
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This is a wonderful, encouraging comment to my whimsical, child-like nature!
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Wonderful thoughts, Deb! Have a sparkling weekend!
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Thanks, Sylvester. And you as well!
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You’re welcome! I will!
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Reblogged this on Kate McClelland.
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Thanks, Kate. I really am just a grown-up child. Lol
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Nothing wrong with that :0)
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We all can dream!
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indeed :0)
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I can relate!! I just hope for the opportunity to show my kids the thrill and wonder of reading! Thanks for the post
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Seeing new ideas and magic come alive in the eyes and smiles of children is one of the biggest joys of the human experience.
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