She had spent many days carefully crafting this last butterfly mobile. Each fold made with an artists vision, precisely pressed so as to reflect the light from its delicate shape as it spun. Each tiny shape telling a deeper part of the story, giving life to what once was a piece of pink paper with a sparkling glittery texture. The string from which it was hung was chosen with the same deep thought ensuring that it complimented the object and allowed it to reach into the minds of those that would stand back and look on with the awe and wonder it deserved.
As they sat with their eyes transfixed on the spinning paper suspended from a glittering pink string held high with her hands, they let out a little giggle as the mobile almost spun to life, lifting itself in the air, and then settling down as if to land. With her hair tied in pink bows, she smiled enthusiastically as her two friends reached out to take a turn. The boy with his soft white hair gestured to his other friend and she reached out and ever so gently took the butterfly in her tiny fingers. Her cheeks were flushed red with excitement and as she held on tight to the glittery string from which it was suspended she watched in amazement as if it was for the first time, and as it spun, the colours blended to look like a Neapolitan ice-cream and they all gave a collective “wow”. When it stopped spinning, she passed it to the white haired boy. Taking it carefully he smiled and turned his back to hide the prize. The two girls watched on. “What are you doing?” enquired the girl with her shiny red shoes. “Yeah, watch ya doing?” asked the other girl knowing full well the magic he weaved and certainly expecting it once more. He put his finger to his lips, “shhhhhh,” he sounded with a gentleness so often offered.
He turned to face them and then he stood to his feet. As they sat cross-legged before him with their eyes locked on his small hands and what they hid, their smiles were so wide with anticipation and their eyes sparkled. He closed his eyes as if he was going to sleep and then he slowly opened his small cupped hands to reveal the folded paper object, which he then blew upon as if blowing a kiss and it began to move. He raised his hands and no longer bound by the string, the butterfly came to life. It flew around him with the sunlight that was streaming through the old man’s office reflecting from its beautiful wings, and painting the most magical colours upon the wall. It then flew around his friend and its shape could be seen reflecting in her shoes so red. It then turned and as he gestured to her the girl with her bright pink overalls slowly held out her hands and then giggled as the butterfly softly alighted upon them. It slowly flapped its wings as it looked into her large eyes, as if to see its own reflection staring back, after all it had once truly been a part of her. Then after a while it took off once more to fly above them all, then suddenly it burst into a colourful shower of confetti like words, and as they fell upon the floor they said, ‘Friends Forever’ and lay surrounded by dragonflies, ladybugs and butterflies as if to tie them all in, giving a deeper meaning to it all.
There are few things that can amaze so much. There are so many things the imagination refuses to let go of, and in youth there belongs the need to believe. Without imagination dreams will not exist, without dreams then what are we to have to believe in. Does it really matter that the child sees things that others don’t, and as a matter of fact, does it really matter that an adult longs to see once more as the child does? If not for dreamers, we would never have reached the moon or flown like the butterflies in these stories. Without imagination and believing we would not have Tinkerbell or Peter Pan, and would that not be a loss to all that inspires the heart to smile.
Today an old man watched as the three small friends played before him. He was thankful for his dreams and the chance to share them with the others he also called his friends. He knew that they too would sit as he did with a smile upon their faces, never to be extinguished but to instead ignite the smiles on the faces of those around them if for no other reason at all but for the smile itself. How did he know this? Did it really matter, does it really make a difference, or does it make him even more magical than before for the thought itself? He is still smiling and will do forever more.
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