she loves me
Thalia snags Nia’s readers and squints at the screen. “Language… I just luuuuv words. Liiii-sen up! ‘A storyteller makes up things to help other people; a liar makes up things to help himself,’ said — Daniel Wallace.”
“Our friend Julie used to make up stories to tell her kids on the long drive between Wisconsin and their Minnesota farm… stories starring Wheatie and Alfredo.” Calliope smiles at the memory of days gone by.
“Storytellers and poets love the world.” Nia clears her throat. “They don’t tell you what to think — instead they encourage you to think for yourself — employing metaphor as a tool.”
“Storytellers trust…” Cal rests her chin on her folded hands, “… and love you so much… that they turn themselves inside out… hoping that what they share… inspires you to trust yourself.”
If love is a matter of holding fast to, and identifying with, and suffering for, the ones we love, it is a matter also of standing back from, of leaving space for, of letting go of.”
~ Frederick Büechner — Now and Then, a memoir of vocation
Your reference back to my stories made me reminisce and smile. You are a wonderful storyteller who is always helping people! ❤️
‘A storyteller makes up things to help other people; a liar makes up things to help himself.’
I like it, but sometimes we tell stories without regard to what others get out of it — we just need to let them out. (Also applies to poetry. Thoughtful essays, not so much, in my experience.) If someone else gets something out of them, that's just bonus points. 😊