The correct spelling of your fairytale dwarf is Rumpelstiltskin or in it's German origin Rumpelstilzchen. I think you're mistaken in wishing to be him (though if he had slept for one hundred years I'd idolize him also) However... the story of Rumpelstiltskin begins with a poor miller who lied to a king and told him his daughter could spin straw into gold, so the king locked her in a room for three days and demanded that she produce the gold and if she could not he was going to execute her. So Rumpelstiltskin appears to her in the night and in trade for his magic to make the gold, she traded him her necklace the first night, her ring the second, and on the third night having nothing left to give, the evil imp made her promise her firstborn child to him. So she marries the prince and when her first child was born the dwarf appears demanding the child, but she makes another deal with him that if she can guess his real name (he refused to tell her his name before) than she can keep the baby. She gets three days. So one night she hears him dancing around his fire deep in the forest singing his name and she guesses it the next day. And the stories say that Rumpelstiltskin got so mad that "in his rage he drove his foot so far into the ground that it sank in up to his waist; then in a passion he seized his left foot with both hands and tore himself in two." How's that for silly? I think we relate to his frustration...
Crazy little guy, huh? But yeah, I just thought I'd educate you on one of my favorite fairytales. People always relate him with sleeping for 100 years, but where in the stories does it say that? Can't find it. Beau and I used to watch the old movie of Rumpelstiltskin all the time when we were kids. It kind of used to freak me out, but Beau sure loved it.
You and this story got me thinking about who Beau really is and how much I miss him. How I used to know he was always someone I could count on, how he walked me to school most days even though I know he hated to. Helped me with my math, let me stay in his apartment in Salt Lake. He used to get so angry at the way I lived my life.
One day this will all be light again, Mother. One day, I know. I believe this, if we do not choose to believe we will live our lives small and afraid and alone, with no faith in a God that has the power to lift us high above this tiny piece of eternity we're wandering in.
I believe, Mom. Do you know that I relate my testimony to you? The example of your love for Christ in my life was my beacon. You weren't exactly the ordinary mother who was Relief Society whatever, but you were the one handpicked for me. The only one who could have stood beside me and helped carry me in my storm. Who else besides you?
I love you with all my heart. Beau will be okay. Whether in this life or the next, he'll become Beau again. I love the scripture in Morman Chapter 9 that says "When has God ceased to be a God of miracles?" Never.
I love you, I love you, I love you clear to china and back. And I can't wait to see you next weekend and walk among your trees with you...
2 comments:
Rip VanWinkle, is the man you're looking for. Interesting blog with Mother and Daughter both speaking about Brother, hope you don't mind me reading the dialogue.
Chan, I swear that's twice in one day you've had me rolling on the carpet laughing at you. Our family has no sense of humor. None. That's why if I say something funny to Megan,I always tag it with "joke," and she does the same thing, because we just don't get it. Much in the world is beautiful to us, but not much is funny. But you have this naive, dry sense of humor that grabs me every time. (Although you really caught me unaware with the spark plug thing this morning, caused me to spit out a whole mouth full of water, gag, choke, and nearly have to go to the emergency room, except that I had to rush and wipe off the computer before it hissed and spit back at me.) You're funny. Really. You're missing your calling. Isn't there some other job besides those in NYC or Hollywood that would pay big bucks for humor? Let's do a search, 'cause honestly, you have the gift. But be sure and get a job now before you fall into Ghetto living. Your Black friend scared me a little. (I still think Burger King is a master plan.)Oh, did I say how happy I am to hear Tanner is done moaning about M.? I'm very glad for him--and for me. He was making us all sick. Good for him.
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