Peace from Roald Dahl

Photo by Min An on Pexels.com

I picked up a copy of Roald Dahl’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory a few weeks ago at our local library. I was so excited to share this tale with the kiddos. It’s fun to read a really long book over a few days’ time and build up the anticipation over what will happen at the end.

LM2 was especially into this one. He liked the children and the little details about those who won the golden tickets. There’s also something indescribably strange and fun about four bedridden grandparents in a tiny house that tickled our fancy, too. (I don’t know why, but this detail fascinated me as a child, too.)

The children didn’t really question the oddities of the story. They could only revel in its magic. They couldn’t get enough and with short chapters, they seemed never satiated. What FUN to read a story such as this.

The best part, by far was the ending. I’d forgotten how Dahl wrote little poems for each of the golden ticket winners and Mike Teavee’s warning song is so powerful, I wanted to type it for you below. These words resonated with me and with our kids. See if you have the attention span to read the entire poem. It’s beautiful and real and important. Perhaps it goes without saying, but the truth in these words brought me peace. And they do it again and again every time I re-read it. Enjoy!

The most important thing we’ve learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEWER let
Them near your television set–
Or better still, just don’t install
The idiotic thing at all.
In almost every house we’ve been,
We’ve watched them gaping at the screen.
The loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eyes pop out.
(Last week in someone’s place we saw
A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)
They sit and stare and stare and sit
Until they’re hypnotized by it,
Until they’re absolutely drunk
With all that shocking ghastly junk.
Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,
They don’t climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch,
They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink–
But did you ever stop to think,
To wonder just exactly what
This does to your beloved tot?
IT ROTS THE SENSE IN THE HEAD!
IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD!
IT CLOGS AND AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND!
IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND
HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND
A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND!
HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE!
HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE!
HE CANNOT THINK– HE ONLY SEES!
‘All right!’ you’ll cry. ‘All right!’ you’ll say,
‘But if we take the set away,
What shall we do to entertain
Our darling children? Please explain!’
We’ll answer this by asking you,
‘What used the darling ones to do?
‘How used they keep themselves contented
Before this monster was invented?’
Have you forgotten? Don’t you know?
We’ll say it very loud and slow:
THEY…USED…TO…READ! They’d READ and READ,
AND READ AND READ, and then proceed
TO READ some more. Great Scott! Gadzooks!
One half their lives was reading books!
The nursery shelves held books galore!
Books cluttered up the nursery floor!
And in the bedroom, by the bed,
More books were waiting to be read!
Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales
Of dragons, gypsies, queens and whales
And treasure isles, and distant shores
Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars,
And pirates wearing purple pants,
And sailing ships and elephants,
And cannibals crouching ’round the pot,
Stirring away at something hot.
(It smells so good, what can it be!
Good gracious, it’s Penelope.)
The younger ones had Beatrix Potter
With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter,
And Squirrel Nutkin, Pigling Bland,
And Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and–
Just How the Camel Got His Hump,
And How the Monkey Lost His Rump,
And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul,
There’s Mr. Rat and Mr. Mole–
Oh, books, what books they used to know,
Those children living long ago!
So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,
Go throw your TV set away,
And in its place you can install
A lovely bookshelf on the wall.
Then fill the shelves with lots of books,
Ignoring all the dirty looks,
The screams and yells, the bites and kicks,
And children biting you with sticks–
Fear not, because we promise you
That, in about a week or two
Of having nothing else to do,
They’ll now begin to feel the need
Of having something good to read.
And once they start– oh boy, oh boy!
You watch the slowly growing joy
That fills their hearts. They’ll grow so keen
They’ll wonder what they’d ever seen
In that ridiculous machine,
That nauseating, foul, unclean,
Repulsive television screen!
And later, each and every kid
Will love you more for what you did.

p.137-141

What brought you peace this week? Share the peace!

No Difference

Photo by manu mangalassery on Pexels.com
In youth lies wonder
And stamina, too
Early mornings and ceaseless awe,
Afternoons filled with all things new. 

Then shrieking, screaming, 
Senseless rage
Injustice done unto others or themselves,
Feeling the limits and confines of this stage.

They need you, and me, and our parents as well
Life is yet theirs to behold. 
I can't reach, he yells, That's not fair, she screams
And we need only say, "You can when you're old."

But such paradox is shared.
Life is both great and troublesome. 
What they do not know 
Is the autonomy yet to come. 

When I do what I say and dream what I please
And quest for the meaning of life. 
Life becomes choices, and many at that,
Some full of peace while others bring strife. 

Life is a mystery, repeating itself
With wonder, awe, strife and pain 
We're hardly different, them and us
Thank god we're all the same. 

My Words

Photo by Madison Inouye on Pexels.com
They mean nothing, 
Words are hollow
Vibrating thoughts
Sent through the wind.

But they sting,
And chip,
And decay inside,
But how did they get in?

I let them in,
I invited them,
Wrapped linen napkins
For them to dine.

I searched for them,
Gave them names,
Made them belong,
Gave them wine.

But they are nothing,
Words are nothing.
I must tell them
Only peace resides.

I’ll tell my heart
With my
Nothing words
To stop their flapping tides.

I am not you.
You are not I.
Because we are one,
Sitting in this peace.

Swallow the light,
Dismiss these guests.
They're uninvited,
This is not their feast.

Learn what’s real,
And quiet the rest.
My words are
An untamed beast.

Coin Leaves

Copper penny
Golden coin
Dangle from the branch.
Metallic paper
Holding fast
Quick to find the ground. 

Sway as you will
Leap when you can
Searching for the earth.
You all will fall
When this is done
And join the rotting soil.

You come and go
Without fail
Such promise is repose.
Shining, glittering, 
Shriveling
Welcoming earth's rest.

Trade me,
Catch me,
Watch me fall
These coin leaves everywhere.
They are for beauty 
Or raking work
Or could they be much more?

Sustenance, life
Creation,
They are everything you are.
Copper penny
Golden coin
None enduring as you thought.