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“Whoooo…..whooo…whooo”

Sirens filled my living room as an ambulance rushed someone off to the hospital

In a few more minutes the phone would ring, telling some parent, please come right away

Or the police would arrive at the house to deliver the news in person.

And then

“I wanna drive the ambulance now”

Don’t you sometimes rather envy children. Lost in their world of imagination they are not easily distracted, taking themselves off into other lands and moments in a twinkle of imagination’s eyes.

Whenever I felt a tad worn out from listening to noisy rough housing from my young lads, I knew just the thing to quiet them down.

Busy town.

Busy town was big enough to give space for four boys to huddle around and yet not cramp their style. With accompanying Playmobile and Lego they could  be ambulance drivers , with the requisite accompanying siren noises ,off to save the young child who had fallen off the swing set at school. Or helicopter the child off the top of the Busy Town’s small hospital to the big city one, far far far away, in a different room.  It mattered not one wit that the police and gas station and post office and church and school were, well frankly, flat on a mat.

Busy town required lots of play cars, play people and thankfully, abundant human hands to move them. No one need  be left on the sidelines as mumerous adventures  took place through its myriad of roads running onto the outskirts.

Yet, all adventures truly only happened within each of their creative minds.

Amazing, don’t you think?

I could pull out that magic carpet and immediately all four would be down on the floor, picking up cars and dividing areas of whose whose.

You can rest assure that I still have this gift from  a very wise grandma, along with six large (yep count em, six) Tupperware containers of Lego and Play mobile .

All is awaiting my grandchildren’s hands. Soon, they too will be whisked away on a magic carpet ride to a town known only in their  imagination.

If  imagination is only intelligence having fun*, may  I be granted the privilege  to go there with them.

The road to imagination

*George Scialabba

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