Alone Again, Naturally...?

When I was very young I tended to anthropomorphize.  Lots of children do that...right?  I began thinking that everything had feelings when my big sister started school and I was left with no playmate at home.  We lived in a farm house, too far for me to run next door to play with other children.  I had lots of time to entertain myself by befriending the feral barn cats and talking with the spiders in my "spider garden."  I did not have an imaginary friend because everything became my friend...the ants, bees, flowers, trees, even rocks.  And because I was so lonely without my sister...I would feel sorry for anything that was by itself.

This is not the farm house, but I had to get a picture of Linda
 and me together and couldn't find one at the farm house.

Here I am ready for church.  This was
taken in front of the farm house.

See how they group with their friends!

I knew that the lone Cheerio floating in milk in my bowl was just that...a Cheerio.  But my three year old mind saw it looking sadly up at me because it had no friends...so I would open the Cheerio box and add some friends for him.  I made sure that my toys were in groups or pairs...never one by itself.  When I picked a crayon to draw a masterpiece...I would tell her that she would soon be back with her friends.  (Of course, it all depended on the color as to what gender it was assigned...green was a girl, yellow a boy....)

Oh!  That poor lonely red one!

When my sister, Linda, would step off the school bus I would be there to greet her.  She would tell me of her adventures at school and then my favorite part...she would open her reading book and proceed to teach me to read.  Yes,  I had a really cool big sister!   She told me not long ago that when we were in the backseat of the car, traveling past telephone poles, I told her I felt sorry for them because they had to hold their arms out...and they must get tired. 

Their arms are getting heavier...heavier...

As I got older I tried to wean myself from thinking everything had feelings...at least not voice it.  I knew it was not real...but somewhere inside...there was... maybe...just a chance that the big granite boulder felt pain when I chipped pieces of mica from its back.  And then there was a time when Linda and I visited my uncle in Denver.  He sold campers and mobile homes.  He let us play in this tiny camper....(I can't remember the name we gave it).   One day when we arrived to play, we found that the camper had been sold.  I burst into tears...and made my uncle swear that it went to a good home.

Of course, all of that was long ago... and I have outgrown this...I would never think of being concerned about a lone egg in a carton....well...maybe.  Okay...I confess.  I felt so sorry for this lone egg in its carton that I picked an egg from a full carton and put it with the lone egg.  I mean....how would you like to spend a cold dark night alone in a carton...wouldn't having a friend with you make it easier?  

Poor, lonely egg



Now he has a friend!



Even though the one egg has no partner,
he is still with friends.

You may understand now, why my husband rolled his eyes when I 'chastised' him last night for eating two of the three mini-cinnamon rolls for his evening snack...leaving one languishing alone...in the dark...cold...refrigerator.  Hmmmm....wondering if I am the only one with a strange quirk...but something tells me...I am not alone.