the selfish giant

I'm not sure why - but today as I was thinking  - something I rarely don't do -
my mind went back - on its own - to a Cherished Childhood Memory.

The memory of the beloved Librarian of the Small Town in which I was raised.

On Saturday morning she used to read a story to the children - and this is the
only one that I remember.  I haven't thought about this for years.  It was always
there and it came to me today.


The story is The Selfish Giant.  I had to google it to remember what it was all
about.  But it is not the story that this post is about  - but its Author.


I was delighted to see that Oscar Wilde wrote this Beautiful Little Story that he
meant to be read aloud to Children.


Oscar Wilde.


About two years ago - for some reason - I googled Oscar Wilde - and read in
wonder about his Beautiful and Tumultuous Life.


I have already lived twenty years longer than he was when he died -

yet in the forty-six years that he was among us - he did what I cannot bring myself to do.



And although I did not know it then - I believe that is why he is so important to me
today.  Not just his contribution to the Literary world - but that he Dared to Live.


He paid the Price for the Living the life that he did - but he did Live.




and if I could talk to him now I would ask him  - how did you do that?




because i just can't figure it out on my own....





maybe these song lyrics can help me out : )



some say love it is a river
that drowns the tender reed
some say love it is a razor
that leaves your Soul to bleed

some say love it is a hunger
an endless aching need
i say love it is a flower
and you its only seed


it's the heart afraid of breaking
that never learns to dance

it's the Dream afraid of waking that never takes the chance

it's the one who won't be Taken
who cannot seem to Give

and the Soul afraid of dying that never learns to Live

when the Night has been too Lonely
and the Road has been too Long

and you think that Love is only

for the Lucky and the Strong


just remember in the Winter Far Beneath the Bitter Snows

Lies the Seed

that with the Sun's Love

in the Spring


becomes


the rose




thanks bette midler



: O)