Life is just as story told to children to keep them happy until they grow up. They, the children, know that there is a beginning to life, even though they can’t remember that there is. Examples of beginning are all around when they hear the babies cooing and/or crying as the case may be. As the children grow, in stature and intellect, the story becomes more exciting and they try hard to imagine what it will be as time goes on. Que sera?
The children grow enough to be put in schools where they are exposed to differences. All kind of differences: other students, teachers (good and average), more stories about what happened before they were born. They have to accept what is told to them, and, later, when they read about facts that older people shove down their throats, sometimes they rebel saying,”What are you saying? What is my place in the story? Sometimes you don’t make any sense because I heard the exact opposite from some other older person’s writing in a book.”
What have they been told? From the time they can start to understand, they are told fables and fairy tales that supposedly tell them about good and evil. Who, then, are good, and are the rest of them evil? Like: don’t talk to strangers — a very good suggestion, but, isn’t everyone a bit strange sometime or other? Isn’t a new teacher a stranger? When does he, or she, lose that nomenclature?
And that great ending sentence: “and they lived happily ever after.” How long is “ever after?” And who lives happy forever? Could it be that we can agree with Hamlet’s question, “Perhaps to dream–” But, we do know better, don’t we?
So, what is the plot-line? How did the story actually get started?
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