Apr 212010
 

Riches come to us in all different shapes and sizes. We’ve all been told the stories of when we enjoyed the simpler things in life, the least expensive items amused us more than the things that cost our parents a small fortune. Some of us even remember those days when the letters to Santa were actually fulfilled and we still played with the packaging more.

I remember having fun with brown paper, dull pencil crayons, and an idea. My best moments were playing “alligator pond” while I bounced and climbed from one piece of furniture to the next. Walks in the forest were safe, inspiring and my imagination was peaked and entertained me for weeks.

Bed time was the best time for me when I didn’t share a room. I’d take my Fisherprice flashlight, the one that I could change the colour of the light (if you know where I can buy one now I’d love one for my son!) and lay on my back, shine the flashlight to the ceiling, often through my blanket, and compose the most amazing story ever told, or thought, or so I thought. I’d drift off believing I was a princess in a castle by the sea with the perfect children, the best husband and no where else I’d rather be.

Now it’s all about having those simple moments back when then it was all about escape. Life is too often about what we don’t have instead of enjoying what we do. I have my perfect son, imagination, my cardboard boxes and dull pencil crayons. I have a husband who loves and supports me in everything I do. I have fans and dreams and achievements and am perfectly happy with who I am and where I am. Although my house isn’t on the beach, it’s certainly not a castle and I still have bills to pay I am rich knowing that my life is perfect as it is and, unbelievably and seemingly impossibly so, it gets better and more magical every day.

Will you be satisfied, even for a moment, with the box again?

Thank you for reading,

Sarah Butland

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