The child who made feasts out of crumbs
A reinterpretation of the legend of Pollyana
For a long time I have this title in my mind and I want to write a tale about it that never really comes out of my pen.
Maybe because when we write a tale or a story, there is a lack of complete elaboration, we also have no idea of its meaning. It starts encrypted and subconscious and when we finish it we are surprised by the message it brought up.
In the case of the child who made feasts out of crumbs it seems that the whole story, the characters and the message it offers are already elicited in one line, with no need for further explanation.
Therefore, my challenge was not exactly to tell a sweet, delicate, emotional story about the poor girl or the poor boy who picked up the crumbs left on the floor by the rich people of the castle, and created the most delicious, attractive, dreamy banquets out of them, only with her or his own good faith, hope, purity of heart, innocence, strength of purpose, and the beauty of one’s soul.
This Eleanor H. Porter already wrote in 1913, with her acknowledged novel “Pollyana”.
To my misfortune, only today while researching for this text I found out that she wrote it as a comedy.
Honestly, I remember reading it as a child, and not considering it a comedy.
Then, my challenge came to be, not to write the story of the child who made feasts out of crumbs, nor to make it moving and emotional so as to people read it and become touched, and specially not to convince anyone that I am this child or that I am not.
The first challenge came to be not to get frustrated about Eleanor Porter writing her novel as a comedy and the second to try to understand in which moment we all left our Pollyana, our girl or our boy who made feasts out of crumbs behind.
Since every child is born in this world with her natural and spontaneous good faith, hope, purity of heart, innocence, disposition to trust, to love unconditionally, with her strength of purpose on realizing dreams, with the wealth of intuitive wisdom and the beauty of one’s soul.
When did we abandon this child behind to become the ones who cannot respect dreams, who cannot read the poetry of love, who cannot see the goodness in people, who cannot trust, who cannot help and collaborate in higher efforts, who cannot break the walls and build bridges, who cannot give what we have in excess?
I remember being this girl for a long time, until becoming an adult
And I also remember losing this child very recently in contact with a world that was not mine, but I also remember bringing some sort of fears instilled in my mind since my childhood.
Maybe I know the answer for me.
Maybe after writing this text I will be able to rescue this child and bring it to my arms again.
Maybe I will also be able to rescue some other abandoned children around.
But this answer is probably so individual and unique for each of us;
So the aim of writing this text is not to give my answer nor to give any kind of answer, but to make the question and to convince you to search for you child somewhere in the past and to rescue her for your present and our future.
Where is your girl, where is your boy who makes feasts out of crumbs?
She or he would certaily see less evil, speak less evil, do less evil
She or he would certainly be able to see the beauty and the wealth life gives us in each detail, every second, in the tiniest crumbs fallen along the path and with them prepare the most delicious, tasty and inspiring feasts to offer and share between people and all the other species in this planet.