She had been told she lived a rich life.
The tales told of her show her walking among her riches. Golds and jewels line her castle and adorn her wrists and neck. She dresses in the most elegant of threads that cover her from head to toe. Her feet were guarded by slippers made of glass; when she walked, she nearly floated from one step to the next.
When little children heard her fable, they were told that her riches reflected off of her copper eyes, whose lids were always crinkled at the corners from the constant joy in her heart. They envied her beauty; they envied her wealth; they envied her fame. They wanted to have a fairy tale of their own to one day tell their descendants.
Do not forget, though, that all fables have their edits throughout the years. And I know the true story for those who wish to hear it.
To begin, she never lived in a castle. No, she never resided in a place whose walls reached toward the sky and the sun burst through the numerous windows. Rather, she lived in a normal home on the corner of two streets. Its walls were green and its roof flat and brown. It looked like nothing special to the common eye; but to her, it was everything.
It was a castle to none but herself; yet the idea of the fortress is all that remains.
Within that home she grew up. She evolved from a small five-year-old to a girl on the breach of becoming a woman. She drew murals out of chalk on her driveway, and she rode her little bicycle to and from the nearby cul-de-sacs. She walked the short trek to the nearby park with her neighbors and rolled down the hills with an infectious laughter. She blew bubbles gifted to her by the house next door, and she would cross the street and indulge in chaotic family gatherings.
It was a castle to none but herself; yet the idea of the fortress is all that remains.
One more question must still linger: was she really swimming in riches?
The answer is no; not in gold and jewels, at least. But, to her, they might as well could’ve been.
She was rich with memories. Feelings. People. These things were worth more than any jewel could ever be. Because without these memories, without these feelings, without these people, she would be reduced to almost nothing; she would not be able to view any part of the world with an optimistic eye; rather she would drown in sorrows.
The memories were the jewels and gold that lined the walls of her castle. They shaped her childhood with smiles and laughs and tears. She still remembers closing her eyes at the end of a road trip and guessing how close she was to home based on how the car moved. She remembers the countless number of trips across the street to her neighbor’s house where she would ring the doorbell and cross her fingers hoping someone would answer. She still remembers the trips to the beach where she would walk along the shore with her dad and collect little shells. These memories followed her through every moment of the present and continued to do so through her future until she cast her final breath.
The feelings were jewels and gold that adorned her wrists and neck. They shone brightly on her face and guided her through her life. The strong presence of joy and love trumped those of anger and sorrow. Her feelings helped in defining her sunny disposition, because those were the only feelings that she truly let shine through. Her feelings showed her that she can find joy in even the darkest of places.
The people, oh the people; they were her most prized possession. The people made up the threads that she wore every day of her life. They were what made her the happiest. They were what made the corners of her copper eyes crinkle as she smiled and filled her heart up with joy. It was regularly that she would look around at the people who surrounded her and feel an overwhelming sense of warmth and satisfaction. The people have influenced her life and the decisions she has made more than anything else in the world. It is them she is most grateful for, and it is them that she adores the most.
This is the story she wishes everyone knew. This is the story I hope everyone now knows. The memories, the feelings, and the people are some of my most prized possessions, and they deserve to have their stories told to the world.
So yes, I had been told I lived a rich life, but one worth far more than any old fable could ever depict.
