An Urban Fairy Tale
(inspired by the story of Emmanuel)
I want to tell you a story. It’s an urban fairy tale of sorts, written about one of the many small glimpses of happiness that gets tucked away in neighborhoods across the world. as many fairy tales do, this one puts things simply, for no reason other than to let the story speak for itself.
And, just like most other fairy tales, this one starts…
Once upon a time …there was a big, very full building made of bricks, with lots of windows and big glass doors. The doors were always open to anyone who wanted to come inside. in this building people would gather and sing and laugh and listen. And every time these people gathered they would have the tastiest treats together, a snack completed simply with warm coffee and good conversation.
One day, the big, very full building closed its doors because the treats had gone stale and the conversation grew tense and the people were no longer laughing. This was a dark day because many of the people inside the big, very full building had become quite attached to everything the building represented. The music. The seating. The people. But mainly the people missed the old the treats and conversations. And the thought of going without them filled the people’s hearts with sadness.
This story could have ended here… as many sad stories do these days. But one day, a handful of the people went back inside the big, empty building to sit and talk together about how they might be able to bring back the treats. To reopen the doors. And be a place where people could share life together once more. And so they came to the big, empty building faithfully, meeting with one another and sharing their hopes for that day when the doors would open and the treats would flow.
And eventually that day came. Two young gals came strolling by the big, empty building, looking for something that they didn’t know they needed. They were greeted by old ladies and warm smiles and comforting embraces. They were offered treats and a sense of home. They were listened to and they laughed and they felt so much happiness flowing from the big, empty building that they knew instantly they belonged. And so they decided to stay there for as long as they could. They were sold.
And soon even more people began to come to the big, not-so-empty building. Each time the doors opened, more people came in. More treats were shared and so many smiles and so many hugs. There were musicians and artists and carpenters and cute boys and happy people and lost people and old people and young people and hipster people. And every one said the same thing. “My, what great treats you have!” and, “Oh, how big your ears are!” and, “Well, what warm hearts you have!” … and the reply was always the same. “Why, yes! the better to love you with.”
And with every day, the big, not-so-empty building became more and more of what the faithful people had hoped it would be. A place for people to hear and be heard. To love and be loved. To feed and be fed. To give and receive. To laugh and to cry. And, ultimately, to belong.
There’s nothing particularly beautiful about the big, not-so-empty building and nothing particularly impressive about what happens inside. It is a home of misfits. Of people who don’t quite fit in so many ways. And at the same time the perfect place for everyone to fit just right. There is room for everyone. And enough treats and old ladies and cute boys and hugs for everyone to get their fill.
And that’s what makes the big, not-so-empty building so very special. Because the one thing that makes it different from all the other big buildings in the world is the one thing that every person on earth needs and wants more than anything else. To know that someone listened. To know that someone cared, if only for a second. To know that someone reached out to extend a smile, a shoulder, a word, or simply a treat.
And that’s what keeps the big, not-so-empty building’s doors open even still.
And that’s what will make all the difference for many years to come.
And, of course, that’s what makes this the kind of story that ends happily ever after.
The end.
Tamura Turney
Project Coordinator & Administrative Support