Magic

I told a story to my girl's group today. I had suggested it as a way to calm them down; they had been bouncing off the walls and laughing and talking so loudly you could hear them down the hall. I told them it was a story my family told during special moments, to celebrate change. This was true. And so one of the older girls, who was being discharged the next day, quieted them down, and they all fell silent one-by-one as I began to talk.

Ever see eight teenagers sit in utter silence, enraptured for 15 minutes? Neither had I. When my story, an old, old tale of love and change, was finished, they applauded. A few had tears in their eyes.

These girls had pasts. They had hurt themselves and others, so caught up in their devastating worlds of hurt and desperation that they had no clear sight left. Many bear scars across their bodies, and few will speak of how they got there. Many of them are restless, unable to sit still for more than a few minutes without needing to move, to pace, to try to escape the thoughts that haunt them.

And yet, there they sat, transfixed.

There is a magic in the spoken tale, the spinning of a story so deep it has no need of pictures or even printed words on a page. The story I spoke is one I have not found recorded anywhere, and so telling it from memory is necessary. And, unlike reading it from a book or watching it on a television, my voice cast a spell over these haunted children. It soothed their souls, however briefly, and made them forget what world they live in. Storytelling is one of the few kinds of magic granted to humans, and it is a magic that is rapidly fading away as modern technology becomes more mainstream.

So I challenge you as I challenge myself: Cast your spell. Memorize your favorite tale, know it so well it may as well be graven on your heart, and then offer it back to the world. Spin your magic, and spread an ancient wonder to those around you. It is far more rewarding than you know.