Now that we’re in the Christmas season, I’ve been thinking about some of my favorite gifts I’ve received over my life. There have been many that have had special meaning such as the typewriter, that I wrote of earlier, that was a gift from my parents in order to foster my writing ambitions as a teen. Most are gone now but some still live with me. This is one that does.
My sister, Linda, gave this to me many, many moons ago when I was 12 or 13 years old. It’s a simple carving of what is probably meant to be Don Quixote. It doesn’t matter- it’s always been Don Quixote to me.
It’s not finely carved, probably made by a guy in some tropical foreign land where he knocks out 20 of these a day to earn a meager living. Doesn’t matter. To me, it’s a Rodin. I’ve carried it with me through ups and downs and the wear shows on it. A nick from his hat and a scratch here and there. It broke in two at his ankles and needed mending just to continue standing.
And he does.
I view him as an inspirational icon, a constant reminder to dream beyond what is in front of you, to believe that you can exceed what others think is possible for you. That you can be whatever you dream yourself to be.
To tilt at your own windmills.
And to remember that others believe in you.
Simple things and small gestures can have great effect.
Many belated thanks, Linda…
Redtree Times 