Any Port in a Storm

Rainstorms. I honestly hold them accountable for the ancient tales. It wasn't love of the tales, or the weight of long tradition that carried them, it was terrified ten-year-old in rainstorms.

I remember, being young, being terrified of the thunder and lighting, and curling tighter and tighter around ym mother like an anaconda. She would sit up, take my head in her lap and say "My little angel, I'm going to tell you a story. I tell this tale as it was told to me..." And then we would go on adventures with dragons, tree spirits, daring heros, fearliess heroins, wise teachers, profound endings, and no rainstorms. I know these had been passed down for generations, all the way from old Europe, changed a little each time, but when mom told them, just for me, they were new and exciting, and the noise of the winds faded beind her voice.

There were many times I would ask my mother for the stories as I grew up. They were safe, and familiar. But when I became a young adult, I found safety in my peers, and forgot the stories.

At least, I forgot them, until me and little Davey, my darling eight year old son, were caught in the airport during one of the worst storms the state had ever seen. He clung to me and whimpered as rain and hail pelted on the roof and walls in a constant roar. I had tried everything to calm him, but his lip still quivered and his eyes were moist with the tears he fought.

Finally, I took his little body into my lap, and stroking his hair, began. "Dave, I'm gonna tell you a story, ok? I tell this tale as it was told to me, long ago..." By the end of the first story, his eyes were shining with interest, and his lips had stopped quivering. I didn't stop. We were trapped there all night, and I stayed awake, telling Davey every story I knew. He wasn't the only kid there, and in the early hours of the moring, I had an audience of about a dozen youngsters and thier parents near my seat, taking comfort in this ancient distraction tool.

Yes, the tales are old. Its true, many of them don't make a lot of sense in the real world. But, they weren't written for the real world, they were told to escape it, and that makes them timeless. So, next time you hear a tale, remember, because someday, you will have the chance to tell it, the way it was told to you, and it to special a moment to miss.
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