The power of storytelling

My two-year-old grandson, affectionately known as King Arthur, came to stay with us this past weekend. He’s at that fun age where he can finally communicate his wants and needs verbally (instead of simply grunting or pointing), and in most cases I can now figure out what he’s saying.

The “toy bomb” detonated within five minutes of his showing up. I’m still not sure why I purchased a set of a bajillion wooden blocks and a set of a gazillion pieces of plastic food, but they were all dumped out and spread across the living room floor as soon as the weekend started. Walking around the house for the next two days was like walking through a minefield.

But King Arthur has always been a cheerful, delightful kid, so I spent a lot of time down on the floor with him playing with those blocks and all that plastic food (which looks better than most of my actual cooking). When my back and my knees announced that enough was enough, I quietly hoisted myself up and watched him continue to play from the safety and comfort of the couch or my little recliner.

What struck me this past weekend was that even a two-year-old with limited vocabulary and verbal skills is drawn to telling stories. I caught him recreating The Three Little Pigs, with the toy basket and the block basket as “houses” he blew over as the Big Bad Wolf. The story starts about halfway into this minute:

He also told himself completely unique stories, with characters he moved around, anthropomorphic trucks and trains, and lots of smashing and crashes along the way (with proper toddler sound effects).

At the time I didn’t think much of this, but I’ve been marveling at it all week since he left. If you’re a fiction writer who wonders if storytelling has any relevance anymore—in this world of anger, divisiveness, disease, and turmoil—let me assure you: YES, YOUR STORIES MATTER. And they’re NECESSARY.

How do I know this now? Because one of the first things a child learns as they come into language skills is HOW TO TELL A STORY. I realized this weekend that a lot of what a two-year-old does when left to his own devices is to tell himself stories. Not just ones he’s heard, such as The Three Little Pigs, but ones he makes up himself.

Let that sink in. This is a human being who has only been in the world for two years. He’s had to learn how to feed himself, how to move himself around, how to help Mommy and Daddy dress him and change him, how to understand and also speak words and sentences (thereby learning how to understand ideas). He’s had to learn the physics of almost every move he makes. He’s had to learn EVERYTHING.

And yet, within two years of his arrival in Life, he’s already spending a good amount of time making up fictional stories.

Nobody told him to do this. Nobody coached him that this might be a good use of his playtime. He decided on his own to sit in my living room and tell himself stories.

I’m convinced that stories are built into our DNA, that we need them. And frankly, if there was ever a year and a time when we need the comfort of storytelling, THIS is it.

So, tell your stories. You’ve probably been doing it since you were a toddler. And right about now, we could all use a few good stories to get us through.

Stay safe, my friends!