Beth Stephenson
EDMOND — The storm on the ocean rocked our ship and washed all our food and water overboard, but when the entire crew except for one wise old salt also washed over the side, we didn’t panic. After all, it wasn’t as bad as the time our house burned down and we were left with nothing but our wits and green apples. We were used to danger of that sort. There were pirates disguised as migrant workers camped behind Go-cart Hill in the orchard. (Their letters were half-burned and in Spanish, so we never knew exactly what their plans were.) And the culvert that ran a hundred feet in front of our house was haunted (and full of horrid spiders).
Though these dangers from my childhood might seem extreme, my own children improved on them. They nimbly leaped from one island of rock floating in bubbling lava to another just to rescue their little brothers, long before Aladdin or Frodo entered their world. Another time, their parents were killed in a tornado and they had nothing for shelter but a small playhouse and nothing to eat but a few carrot sticks. My younger kids had a terrible time with a rampaging bear as they slept in a tent behind the house.
You might correctly discern that the shipwreck was actually a tree house and the hot lava looked surprisingly similar to hideous orange shag carpet, but imaginary play creates some of the richest memories of childhood. It’s the womb where writers are born and heroes are conceived.
When we over-schedule and over-purchase for our children, we endanger the fountain of creative juices in their young minds. It’s far easier to be an imaginary sports star by shining in a neighborhood game of kick the can or hide and seek than it is to be a real star in the kiddy sport league. Some of my friends worry that their children will miss out if they don’t sign them up for every sport and activity that strikes their momentary fancy. It might be just the opposite.
There’s a new game that has caught on with teens and young adults called “fugitive.” It is basically glorified hide and seek, but is played by dropping off most of the participants a mile or two from the home base after dark, giving them a 10-minute head start and then trying to catch them before they can get “home.” The seekers have the use of a car and flashlights. Anyone who makes it back without getting caught wins. It’s fun because of all the imaginary dilemmas it presents.
My grandson is short for his age (he’ll be 4 in March), but he’s a basketball star in his little universe, since the hoop is set at about 4 feet. He was delighted with the basketball outfit we sent him for his birthday. When he wears his outfit, he believes the world mistakes him as the star of last night’s game on TV.
Though advertising may suggest that children want video games and electronic gear for Christmas (and kids might think so, too), everybody needs at least one gift that sparks creative juices. It might be a blank canvas with a set of paints or blocks or Legos or beads with findings to make their own jewelry.
Last year, my oldest son (the hero of the hot lava and daddy to the basketball star) wrote a collection of happy memories relating to each of the family members and gave it to us in a homemade book. He and his wife bought me a new journal and mounted copies of the memories that related to me on the front pages, turning a relatively inexpensive gift into a genuine keepsake.
Christmas is lots more fun when we think outside the Xbox as we plan for the holiday. A friend with small children found plain white aprons at a hobby store and plans to have her young children decorate them for Grandmas and Grandpas. An older child might want to make the apron, too.
For my husband’s and my first Christmas together, his sisters made us an assortment of salt dough ornaments. They’ve joked about it since, but I loved that gift and as the children came, they looked forward to bringing out those handmade ornaments. (The recipe is one cup salt, one cup flour and enough water to make a pliable dough. Bake on a foil covered cookie sheet in a low oven for several hours until golden brown. Paint as desired.)
Creativity and imagination adds zest to every life it enters. Encouraging and using creativity is one of the earmarks of good parenting, and of a happy life.
BETH STEPHENSON is an Edmond resident.
