The Making of a Storyteller

by Cindy Kane

“Mama? I had ANOTHER DREAM last night,” my 5YO tells me. She paces the bathroom where I’m applying my face and peeks up to take in my response. I nod my head, motioning for her to continue. “I don’t know if I should tell you because this time it was REALLY BAD…” She likes to prepare me for the worst. It’s one of the ways I know she hasn’t really been “dreaming.”

“Can’t scare me, Pea. I’m a product of the 90′s.”

“Okay, well, this time I was standing near our house, which was on fire. And I reached out to touch it. And then everyone else wanted to touch it too. And the fire kept getting bigger and bigger…”

She goes on, telling a very coherent tale, another indication that she hasn’t been dreaming; she’s been thinking. My daughter has a lot of “thoughts” like this. Big, dangerous productions. Being kidnapped. Fires. Losing all of her family or friends. And now that we’re facing the anxiety of preschool ending and Kindergarten beginning, she’s having lots and lots of “dreams.”

This particular “dream” has burned her possessions to ashes, and left her friendless. Normally at this point we’d sit down and talk about the differences between “dreams” and “thoughts,” and decide what she’s actually experiencing and why it scares her. But before I can say anything, I remember my seventh grade English teacher, Ms. Neilson.

Ms. Neilson was the first teacher who took interest in molding me as a storyteller. At the time I was writing all kinds of angsty things that got me sent to the office for “concern.” But she wasn’t worried that I was some trench-coat kid waiting to unfurl my secret hatred. She told me I was a writer. She let me tell whatever story I wanted, as long as I did it properly, and as long as I continued to write. When she wasn’t phased by my dark thoughts, I felt free to create bigger, almost-happy things.

I look down at my 5YO, so solemn and sad. I kneel on the floor, eye-level.

ME: You know something, Pea? Sometimes really creative people have thoughts. Big thoughts. Thoughts that make them uncomfortable because they’re afraid people will get angry at them for thinking them.

MY DAUGHTER: Really?

ME: Yes. And so sometimes they don’t tell people about these thoughts, and the thoughts get bigger. Or other times they tell people that they’re dreams, because no one can get mad about dreams.

MY DAUGHTER: Did YOU ever do that?

ME: Of course, Pea. I’m a writer. I do that all the time. But you know what else? Creative people have the power to change their thoughts. They can take the stories that pop into their heads and make them into anything they want. Happy stories, sad stories, funny stories.

MY DAUGHTER: How?

ME: Like this. Once there was a girl who stood in front of a house that looked like it was on fire. But it wasn’t really on fire, it was made out of huge, beautiful crystals that sparkled so brightly when the sun shone down that it LOOKED like fire. When the girl stared at the house for long enough, she saw a whole other world inside of it. She wanted to touch it, to see if she could get inside the other world. When her friends saw her staring, they stared too. And THEY saw the other world. They reached out together and…

MY DAUGHTER: AND WHAT?

ME: Anything you want, Pea. It’s okay to have thoughts, you know. Storytellers have minds full of bright, colorful, sometimes scary thoughts. They can’t always help their thoughts, but they CAN decide what they DO with their thoughts. And that’s what’s most important.

MY DAUGHER: It wasn’t a dream, Mama.

ME: Thank you for telling me, Pea. And I always want to hear your stories, whether they’re dreams or thoughts. Especially this one. What do you think happened when you and your friends touched the crystal house?

She dances around the small bathroom, weaving her tale. I watch her, taking her in like a deep breath. Sometimes I wonder at the placement of her in my life. What on earth God was thinking when He lumped us together to duke it out in this small, confined world. But not today. Today I know that I am exactly the mother best suited for her.

And it feels good.