From Another Time...

“Welcome to the land of make believe!” As a child, whenever I heard those words spoken my heart would skip a beat and I would imagine life as it could be while riding on locomotives and spending time with characters from my favorite children’s books. Because well, the Land of Make Believe was a small theme park in Pennsylvania and those words were spoken on the television in my home several times a day during the summer months when the amusement park made most of its money for the year. I recently heard that this park was closed and I was saddened. I don’t really know what disappointed me about this news, because truth be told, it wasn’t a very nice theme park. The rides, of which there were not many, were poorly maintained and operated by strange people who had decided to stop their wandering carnival caravan in western Pennsylvania in the hopes that enough people would come and pay for them to eke out a living.

But my thoughts about this now closed theme park are merely reflections from the mind of a 30 year old; someone who has been to Disneyworld and Universal Studios. I have been blessed with the opportunity to visit cities like Paris and currently live in the “big apple.” The Land of Make Believe has been transformed by the mind’s eye as the result of other experiences, which I have deemed better than those formed by my time spent there many summers ago. But, if I stop to think about that place and what it meant then, it suddenly takes on a whole new meaning. As a young child, I didn’t know about all of those other theme parks. My world was much smaller, and a trip to the park to ride on my sled after a snowstorm was much more exciting than shaking hands with some overgrown mouse with blank eyes and a psychotic smile. And more than being young, my parents were young. Young and struggling. As a young child my mother chose to stay at home to raise my brother and I, and my father drove 25 city blocks to work at a small machine shop. Although my memories are not ones of longing for a better life, as an adult it is easier to see that my parents worked very hard to create a home that convinced me that I had it all and it did not come at a cost. And the Land of Make Believe, while small and insignificant, represented a financial sacrifice that my parents were willing to make to bring my brother and I to a place we believed we needed to visit.

Looking back on the time spent there, frames a lot of other experiences I had growing up with loving parents. As a young child, my parents took a couple’s vacation to Mexico. While they were there they purchased a small, iridescent donkey made of paper, called a piñata. When they returned from their trip I remember the joy on their faces as they gave me this present they had brought from a far away place exclaiming, “it is filled with toys and candy!!” As a child, I could not imagine how this small object could contain all the latest action figures, race cars, and Kit Kat bars I could crave, but the look of joy on their faces convinced me my imagination was clearly stifled. So, I took a stick and pounded away at that paper donkey. After several whacks I finally landed the definitive blow which resulted in the small animal splitting in the center. As the two pieces fell to the floor, I remember the confusion that overcame me when there was nothing in the center of the donkey. I thought it might have been a cruel trick being played by my father, but the look of horror and simultaneous disappointment on both of my parents’ faces communicated this was no joke. This was a mistake. THEY were supposed to fill the piñata and now their son was confused by the empty hole in his paper toy. I don’t remember what happened next in that small family drama. I think the memory of their faces and my reaction to the empty donkey clouded my ability to encode the events that followed. But, as I look back on that day I see it as another example of two people thinking of their child (my brother was not yet born) and trying their best to create a house of plenty for him. Two people who loved their little family, and despite their struggles wanted their child to have it all.

All of these thoughts have flooded my mind because yesterday I landed in another land of make believe. The land of Los Angeles, where adults write fantastic stories and grown men are paid to blow up cars. Where 50 year old women undergo extensive plastic surgery in order to extend their career a couple more years, and everyone “does lunch” to seal the next big deal in television or film. But, in this land of make believe, this la la land of southern California I have been blessed to visit the home of an old college friend. A guy, who not completely unlike my own family has married, has a soon to be four year old child, and is expecting his second on February 18th. A guy who left the east coast to pursue his own dream of success in this land of make believe and who in the process has started a family.

Each morning we awake and sit at the breakfast table. There is always tea, toast, cold cereal, and a small glass of orange juice. The apartment is small, but is filled with a warmth and love that makes the space precious. Earlier this year, my friend completed his first feature film and is in the process of trying to sell the film so that it will be distributed. While I was not around for the work that has been done for him to get to this point it is hard to capture in words the struggles and sacrifices that have been made to get here. Money borrowed from family and friends, numerous meetings with studios to get space, long hours spent writing and drawing storyboards to ensure efficient work time. But, in the midst of these struggles a family is growing and two young people are striving to build their relationship and provide their child with all of the things she needs and wants. As an adult, our recollections and the stories shared by older family members are the windows through which we understand our past. Sometimes, though, we are blessed with experiences that allow us to witness firsthand the things we were unable to fully understand when we were younger. My time here is a gift from God. As a guest in my friend’s home I am able to experience through the eyes of an adult the struggles my own parents underwent to get me to the place I am at today. It has also allowed me to see the power of love and its ability to transform every situation. Even those filled with hardship and sacrifice. People often wonder what life is all about. Why are we here? What is the meaning of all of this, or if there is any meaning at all? For me, the answer has always been to love. God’s love for us is more than we can ever comprehend, but his hope for us is to extend the love he has shown for us with those we encounter in our daily life.

And so as I spend time in this land of make believe I am reminded of the sacrifices and love given to me in my early childhood from my parents. And I am encouraged to watch another family, in the early stages of their own growth together, striving to make their dreams a reality while lovingly raising a child who will grow to have her own hopes and dreams. Dreams that will someday take her to her very own land of dreams, land of hopes, land of make believe.