I remembered what it was like to be so small, and to be held so tight...

After telling stories, I'm used to adults coming up to tell me that it reminded them of their childhood, but when a ten year old came up to me a couple of days ago to say: "You reminded me of when I was a baby..." I was floored! 
Wait a second...how did that happen??

In one of the stories I told, the gran-gran-gran-gran-gran-gran-gran mother, the oldest woman in the world, takes her latest, her smallest, her minuscule little one and wraps him in her shall, really close, really tight, just over her heart, and takes him to see the first sunrise in the world...

....and the little one I had here, in front of me, went on to explain that when I described this, she remembered what it was like to be really really small, and to be held really really tight...and that it made her cry...
Her mother hearing this, hugged her, and told me that she was born really premature, and that it was long time till anyone could hold her, and so when they finally were able to hold her, (and she was still really really small...) it was such a very special moment...

And this (still) very small little girl turned around and said: "that's what I remembered when I listened to the story, I remembered being so small and being held like this, very tight, just over the heart..."

Needless to say she hit me right in the heart, and also reminded me of the power of stories, of telling stories, and sharing magical, meaningful, healing images. 

It fascinates me that in a story each listener will grab what s/he needs to live, to heal, to create meaning in his/her life. The same story may push such completely different buttons for different listeners.  And all these meanings may also be very different from what the storyteller intended when s/he picked this story to tell.
And as storytellers we learn to release the control, to open our heart as wide as possible to let deeply felt images come out, and hope that the listeners will grab, what they need, and turn around and share it again and again...like that little girl, who shared with her mom her feeling of being held and protected, a memory of early childhood, and brought tears to her eyes...(and mine)

Stories can and will heal the world!