“That’s not how the story goes, Daddy. Tell them what happened. Tell them the story for real, Daddy.”
It was one of those occasions where I couldn’t quite muster up the energy to go through the situation as I had done on umpteen occasions previously. I had delivered a half-hearted and somewhat pathetic recounting of what took place. My girls weren’t having it though. They knew the funny points, they knew the gripping bits and they knew how it should all end up. Even though they had hear it on a lot of those umpteen occasions, they didn’t tire from hearing it rendered again. They didn’t mind because every time it was rendered there was always a little nuance to one aspect that wasn’t highlighted previously. There was always something fresh even if it was just the way I spoke. It made the telling of the story active and engaging to them.
So when I just mumbled an abridged version, the girls were not having it. That would not do justice to the story. It would not be fair on the listeners either. IF I was going to share this story, I had to do it properly and give the listeners a fair chance of at least considering it for themselves on its own merits ‘for real’.
After taking a deep breath to get my bearings and set myself, I embarked again on telling the story properly. It wasn’t that long a story, but it was enough to keep someone’s attention and get them giving those familiar facial gestures reacting to what had happened and in wonder as to what would happen.
In finishing the story, I asked the girls if that was alright and they were already pleased because the listeners were deeply engrossed in the story and ready with the questions. They were happy enough with my delivery on that occasion as it did far more justice than my previous limp effort.
As ever, if there was a story for the telling, it might as well be told properly.
(Photo by Ethan Hu on Unsplash)
For His Name’s Sake
Shalom
C. L. J. Dryden
Life With CD 