Just for the kids

I've often played around with stories that I think up just for my kids. I've almost never written any of the silly ideas down - it's usually only snippets of a character or situation.  Just over a year ago I finally began to throw one of the stories down on paper so I could read an entire thing to my little people.   

Here's the opening to a piece called "A Summer of Changes" from Stories from Bredon.

A sigh escaped young Maddie Whitson’s lower lip, puffing blond wisps off her forehead for a moment. Her shoulders bounced against the back of the carriage seat as she tried to cradle the twins on either side. At 5 years of age, Jace and James were her darlings, but even they were trying her patience. A small, hard shoe kicked her shin on the left, and a bony elbow dug into her right hip as the boys struggled against the stuffy, cramped space.



Life was a series of adventures and events to Maddie’s cheerful disposition, so when Papa told the family two weeks ago that they would be leaving Penrith by the end of June, the only home they had all ever known, she took it in stride. Ten-year-old Joel had fussed about the loss of his friends and favorite fishing hole, and the twins had fretted Mother with questions about the bustle of trunks and satchels being bandied about the small parsonage. But Maddie’s imagination had taken flight with the possibilities of the unknown. In her mind she had already made a wonderful friend, and the two girls explored the river and hills under a cheerful sun in the new place called Bredon. Of course this new friend had only brothers in her family, or perhaps she was an only child – it mattered not. The important thing was that both girls longed for a sister, and had found a kindred spirit in each other. Often during the two frantic weeks of packing and repacking, Anne Whitson found her daughter with an absent-minded smile on her face, or quietly speaking to herself as she boxed up her girlish treasures.


As the family tumbled into the carriage to depart for Papa’s new parish, Maddie engaged Joel in a game of “what if”. “What if there’s a large tree near the Bredon parsonage – and we could build a fort?”


“What if there’s nothing but sticks and rocks for miles,” Joel pouted as a shock of sandy hair fell over his gloomy brow.


“What if there’s a boy your age who would like to race across the village green?” Now she was baiting her brother, for she knew his penchant for a good piece of competition.


Joel’s chin came up, and interest flickered in his brown eyes. “He better be good at other things, because I’ll beat him every time.”


The game led to further ideas about their new home, and eventually to the boys begging their sister for a story. Only two years older than Joel, Maddie had always been able to lure him, as well as the twins, along on her trips of fantasy. This talent came in particularly handy for passing time when visiting older folks’ homes with Mother and Papa after Sunday services.


“Have I ever told you about the Cave of Wonders?” whispered Maddie.


Eyes widening the boys settled in to the rocking carriage seats, and so began the account of four inquisitive children, who stumbled upon an opening in a hillside. As the rented carriage rattled and crunched along the miles, the imaginary characters explored a world where flowers tasted like lemon drops, and it rained sweet tea. Girls were free to roll down grassy knolls, or ride astride fast horses in noble battles. And boys fought triumphantly to keep the land free from the evil influence of the weak, but wicked Lord Cyril. The use of invisibility dust, shrinking powder, flying chants, and other sundry potions tantalized the boys’ minds and fed their desire for heroism and nobility.


Maddie had spun her make-belief tale, the boys listened intently, and thus the children had whiled away the hours in the close space. But now Joel’s incessant whistling and knee-jostling, combined with the twins’ constant shifting, brought Maddie to stifle a groan. To complain would bring about Mother’s corrective eye.


“Look out the window, my sweet.” Papa winked.


“Is it finally Bredon?”


“That’s our new home.” Papa’s eyes twinkled, and she looked out where thatched huts dotted the countryside. Up ahead the River Cardel wrapped itself around a sprawling collection of stone cottages, timbered two-story shops, and cobblestone streets. Mother grasped Papa’s hand as the church spire rose over the village, and some unspoken message passed between the two. A sense of security settled over Maddie’s scattered thoughts. The relationship between Mother and Papa had often been filled with fireworks, laughter, arguments, and intense discussions. But never once had Maddie ever questioned Mother’s loyalty to Papa and his vocation. The two were like icecream and sunshine, only Maddie could never decide who was which.


“Our new home?” echoed James, pushing his face toward the small window.


Home. A grin pushed its way across Maddie’s face. A new adventure.