Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Wicked Witches in Gingerbread Houses
I take them to these places before it is too late. I crouch in the corner so we are all eye level. I tell them about the shoeless children without school books and the boys who carry machete knives into the jungle. About the drunken fathers who sleep on the cardboard and the mothers who trade their bodies for food. It's a kind of absurdest fairy tale... like the stories I've read to them all their life tucked safely beneath covers and quilts. The Three Billy Goats Gruff or the Princess at the Pea.