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Lobster Swan: a Holiday Fable
I’ve been thinking about how so many of us don’t quite feel like we fit in with our families, and how that has been magnified the last four years. And, I’ve been thinking about the possibility of reconciliation and acceptance. Thus, this little tale was born.
In the early days on the pond, she rested at the top of the water, peering down into the depths for as long as she could, waiting to be invited to join the ones who raised her, there at the bottom. They looked up towards her with kindness, even beckoned to her sometimes. At the moments she could swim down to them, she grew immediately uncomfortable, unable to breathe. As she swam to the surface, they just shook their heads and muttered.
“She’ll grow out of it someday.”
“I guess that’s just how she is.”
Her view was different. In her world, creatures breathed from lungs. Trees grew tall and changed colors. As the leaves fell, she noticed something in the exposed branches — other creatures who moved like she did. Their bodies floated on the air and their arms looked like hers. Some of them skimmed the surface of the water with her. Gradually, she spent less and less time underneath, and more time at the surface. The ones who raised her muttered still.
“Can anything be done about that neck? It’s so — odd.”