Monday Time Out
Old Lady Fancy Pants

A TGB READER STORY: For a Few Mysterious Minutes

By TGB reader Jean-Pierre

Some years ago - before I got to be eighty-five with a miserably sore hip - I was walking my youngest grand-daughter to the play park on a golden Fall day when she said, quite unexpectedly, right out of the blue, "I'm glad I chose my Mother and Father."

She was a toddler, barely five minutes into this crazy world, remember - and when it soaked in, I said, "I'm glad you did, too, Charlotte."

She spent a few minutes explaining why her Mother was kind and her Father was responsible, and then she was back to herself, eager to hit the swings and the roundabout, the adult expressiveness reverting to its usual chatter.

Charlotte's eighteen now and starting university - with a penchant for roller skating, playing guitar and offbeat hobbies.

But it's hard not to forget that for a few mysterious minutes, somewhere between chasing the dog and looking down the path for the play park, that little tad revealed some tantalising unknown where we might get to choose the manner of however many futures we have.

* * *

[EDITORIAL NOTE: Reader's stories are welcome. If you have not published here or not recently, please read submission instructions. Only one story per email.]

Comments

Thank you for sharing this sweet memory. The simplest words from a wee one do ring true.

For people who believe in reincarnation - this makes perfect sense. Thanks for sharing.

So beautifully remembered and written, and affirming. We are stardust.

Thank you, Jean Pierre, a moment of beauty in my day.

sweet. I am desperate for grandchildren for this very reason and relationship. Alas, my girls, ages 20 and 23 are still too sensible and young to comply!

Right before I read this sweet story, I read a line by George Eliot—“it is never too late to be what you might have been.”
We have choices about what to be and how to be, as Ronni so eloquently describes —until the very last minute.

Lovely story! It reminds me of the legend that the reason we have a small vertical cleft under our nose is because we're born knowing the answers to life's great mysteries. But before we can utter that first wail, an angel comes & gently places its forefinger on our top lip and whispers, "Shhh."

I had a similar but not as profound experience. Walking with my four-year-old son, I noticed a strong smell of roofing tar. I told him what it was and he said in an oddly grown-up voice, "I know, I did that before."

Not to get too woo-woo, when I was 6 and my brother was 4, we would drive by an area out in the country, where as I recall there were some concrete foundations, he would say "That's where my family lives." Every once in a while he would make mention of "my family" (not ours). He has no recollection of that now--but I do!

Thank you for the sweet, intriguing story.

What a mysterious and lovely story! When a son was very small he said, "It's a lot better now that I understand time." I asked what he meant; he said, "Before, there wasn't any."

I like this story.

When I was in therapy some years ago, the therapist asked me to consider why I chose the family I was born into. This was a surprise and something that I had never heard or thought about before.

It is interesting to contemplate the answer....I was already a licensed therapist, and a registered art therapist at the time. I needed therapy myself due to multiple losses, pending loss of job, loss of my mother, and loss of a significant love relationship.

It's wonderful thing to have a small child share their insights of the world.

How wonderful life was before we thought we knew everything. I love your story. We must always remain open to the possibilities of new realities. I am 83 and still thinking , learning and trying to grow a better me

From the mouths of babes! I know certain Eastern philosophies teach that we choose our families of birth.

How often I have wondered WHY in the world I chose mine.

I LOVE that Charlotte was happy with her choice. And that she had a witness to hear and remember.

From the inside cover of the book "LIFE BEFORE LIFE A Scientific Investigation of Children's Memories of Previous lives" by Jim B. Tucker, M.D., director of this research at the University of Virginia Medical Center: "For the past forty years, doctors at the University of Virginia Medical Center have conducted research into young children's reports of past-life memories." How I wish I had written down more of the conversations I had with my children when they were very small. At that time, I would have discounted such memories as fantasy; now I'd be intrigued. I think it is this book that says the children seem to lose their memories of past lives when they near age ten or so.

Isn’t life the most amazing and wonderful experience

But why would children chose abusers, child molesters or drug addicts or simply parents living in war torn extremely poor countries?

Kindness and responsibility -- what better qualities in parents could a person want? That granddaughter is very wise -- and fortunate.

Wendl, I loved that little legend, thanks for sharing it.
I wonder why trolls imagine we care a fig about their need for attention.

I've seen your videos (The Ronnie Show) and thought you beautiful. I read just now that your're 85. WOW!!! My jaw dropped. Amazing!!!

At 70, I'm younger than you but look (and feel) much older. No charming and smiley talking style like you have I (sadly).

Out of the mouths of babes .......

This story and these comments bring up an old memory. When my daughter was 3 (50 years ago!) we often passed a cemetery near where we lived. On most all passings she would say ‘’look! A ballen garden”. Sometimes it sounded like ‘ballen’, sometimes sounded like ‘vallon’. When I would question her I’d get no insight at all - she’d just repeat it. I’ve never forgotten it. So strange. When the internet arrived I searched both terms repeatedly and found nothing. Maybe it was nothing, but I’ve always felt it was something, I just don’t know what.

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