***
Now you see, this silver spoon has seen many many things. It has been cradled in the hands of princes and grandmothers and minstrels and friendly travelers alike. This little silver spoon, trapped in its quaint little box has been handed down from generation to generation.
Around it, the castle would change.
Acquisitions and plunder.
Marriages and deaths.
Feasts and famine.
As it watched the world go by, the little spoon longed for adventure. It would hear stories of distant places and colorful peoples from a strange pair of twin skewers, hewn from the same tree, wrapped in paper kimonos. The twin skewers, who called themselves chopsticks, would fill the little spoon's dreams of wonderful beginnings.
Once, twice, three times more the castle changed. Knick knacks and paintings from all over the castle were sold and bought. One day, light broke the darkness as the quaint little lid of the quaint little box was lifted. Through hazy eyes, the spoon saw the Mistress' giant hand hovering above: choosing the perfect set.
With all the strength the little spoon could muster it beamed and shone as it had never done before.
Choose me! thought the little spoon. Take me with you!
As the mistress' hand gently stroked the silver spoon's gilded side, the little spoon gleamed its brightest. Before long, the silver spoon found itself wrapped in a silken case, packed in a wooden trunk and about to embark on a very big adventure.
Over the years, the spoon saw a great many things. It mixed the strongest of coffees on the African plains. It heard the poof escape the most perfect soufflé under the dancing lights of the Eiffel Tower.
As it watched the world go by, the little spoon longed for adventure. It would hear stories of distant places and colorful peoples from a strange pair of twin skewers, hewn from the same tree, wrapped in paper kimonos. The twin skewers, who called themselves chopsticks, would fill the little spoon's dreams of wonderful beginnings.
Once, twice, three times more the castle changed. Knick knacks and paintings from all over the castle were sold and bought. One day, light broke the darkness as the quaint little lid of the quaint little box was lifted. Through hazy eyes, the spoon saw the Mistress' giant hand hovering above: choosing the perfect set.
With all the strength the little spoon could muster it beamed and shone as it had never done before.
Choose me! thought the little spoon. Take me with you!
As the mistress' hand gently stroked the silver spoon's gilded side, the little spoon gleamed its brightest. Before long, the silver spoon found itself wrapped in a silken case, packed in a wooden trunk and about to embark on a very big adventure.
***
Over the years, the spoon saw a great many things. It mixed the strongest of coffees on the African plains. It heard the poof escape the most perfect soufflé under the dancing lights of the Eiffel Tower.
As the years went by, the silver spoon would be wrapped in its silken case, in its wooden trunk to awake to excitingly new and unfamiliar surroundings. One day, the spoon awoke to a sight that was a little more familiar.
The little spoon opened its eyes to its quaint little box, in its quaint little kitchen in its castle not so far far away.
Next to the quaint little box, however, stood a strange steel contraption whose inhabitants hung on little metal hooks. Spoons and forks and knives of shining stainless steel jabbered and jostled as they tried to vie for the gilded silver spoon's attention.
What has happened to the order and tranquility of my castle? lamented the little spoon.
Out of the corner of its eye the little spoon saw a sparkling gleam amongst the stainless steel suitors. In the midst of the fray, neither pushing nor being pushed, gleamed a fork with a quiet silent strength.
The little spoon was impressed by how this fork said so much, and spoke so strongly without saying anything at all.
With a small smile playing on its silver lips, the little spoon crept back into its quaint little box with a stainless steel gleam in its heart.
***
As the years went by, more of the castle's little treasures came and went. In time, so many of the silver spoon's companions had gone, that it became the only inhabitant of the quaint little box. Across the way, the stainless steel fork would continue to gleam its strong silent shine.
One day, with no more silver forks or silver knives in the quaint little box, the silver spoon found itself in its mistress' bejeweled hand next to the silent shiny steel fork.
The silver spoon's little silver heart filled with giddy girlish glee. Its delicate silver body fit the sleek stainless steel frame perfectly—like a pair of hands clasped in prayer.
Before long, the silver spoon no longer dreamt of seeing the world alone, for here, beside it, gleamed a shiny steel adventure.
For a time, the little silver spoon and the shiny steel fork would work in unison, taste the wonders of life, explore the castle and the world beyond its cold gray walls.
One sunny morning, the silver spoon peered out of its quaint little box and found that the familiar steely shine it had grown to love was gone. The steel fork was gone.
Hours turned into days turned into a month. The steel fork was gone.
Until one day the steel fork was back. All at once the little silver spoon's heart spun with worry and anger and relief and joy. The little silver spoon waited and waited for the steel fork to regale it with tales of its absent adventure. But the stories did not come. The steel fork simply continued to gleam its strong silent shine.
Once, Twice, Three times more the silver spoon would awake to find the steel fork had gone. Once, Twice, Three times more the steel fork would reappear gleaming in its strong but silent way.
Sometimes, the Mistress' young son would hastily grab the steel fork and take it on their own private adventure. Upon its return, the steel fork would merely shine with dazzling strength and deafening silence.
The little silver spoon learned to stop asking questions, to stop expecting answers, to close its ears to stories, to dull its shine and deaden its heart.
The defeated silver spoon lamented the days when both spoon and fork, silver and steel, shone in harmony. It was a false harmony realized the silver spoon. The silver spoon felt weaker than ever. It had given its silver shine to the steel fork—a protective silver shine shielding him from the muck and grime of the world. The little silver spoon had shone and sparkled for the steel fork when in truth, the cold stainless fork shone so brilliantly only for itself, while taking with it more of the silver spoon's shine. Upon each return, the silver spoon would shine so brightly for the silent steel fork—and upon each disappearance the silver spoon grew more dull and more gray.
Now, weak and forlorn, the silver spoon had given up all its shine to the selfish steely fork. The little silver spoon's energies and hopes and dreams and joys had become as dusty and unused and forgotten as the silver spoon itself had become—neglected and abandoned in a corner of its quaint little box by a mate who is always both absent and present.
One day, as the little silver spoon was gazing, weathered and numbed, outside the quaint little box, the figure of the Mistress appeared. Hidden behind her ringed fingers pierced the fork's familiar steely shine joined by the equally brilliant shine of a stainless steel knife.
Images of fork and knife together, piercing flesh, tearing flesh, flesh and flesh, flooded the silver spoons hazy mind—the cold steely knife upon the cold steely fork in the way that the silver spoon's delicate silver frame used to lay. The little silver spoon suddenly understood that behind the strong silent shine hid a loud secret shout.
As the Mistress hung both knife and fork on their little metal hooks, the little silver spoon watched them with regret and sadness. The steely knife gleamed with a blinding brilliance as it faced the sad little spoon. But the shiny steel fork looked different yet the same. Its strong gleam has lost no luster, its strength and shine intact, but the change was in the way the steel fork shone no longer for the silver spoon, or perhaps never had at all.
A steely spike took the place of the steel silent shine in the silver spoon's heart. The silver spoon's little corner in its quaint little box became suddenly darker and colder as it knew in its silver little heart that the steel fork was lost forever.
Late one evening, something stirred beside the quaint little box. The silver spoon crept up to the box's side and peered out into the darkness. A small canvas pouch began to stir and out of it popped the strangest utensil the sad little spoon has ever seen. The little spoon stared into a face that looked much like its own, but on its head sat the undeniable prongs of a fork.
"What are you?!" asked the little spoon in disbelief.
"I, my dear friend," replied the newcomer, "am a spork. I possess the grounded dependability of a spoon, and the determined assertion of a fork. I am the best of both worlds but live in neither."
Longing for a friend, the silver spoon began to weep.
Despite the spork's strange appearance and strange ways and strange presence, it consoled the sad silver spoon.
"Weep not, dear one, for beyond and within your quaint little box, in this quaint little kitchen, in this magnificent castle lies adventure that at once is greater than your wildest dreams and not so far far away."
"Speak not in riddles you bizarre creation!" wept the silver spoon. "I have seen the world and tasted adventure. I have met spoons, and forks and knives from both ends of the earth. I have tasted heaven and dined with the weak."
"Open your eyes, my gilded jilted friend. For one who has seen so much of the world do not be blinded by the heaviness of your heart. It is our nature to feel, but it must also be in our nature to move forward and upward. The world is more than kitchens and castles and spoons, forks or knives. Each day you leave your quaint little box is an adventure unlike the last. Open your heart to heartaches and joys. Possibilities. Endings. Beginnings and what may come. There is more to the world than a strong silent shine. Fill your head with wisdom, your heart with memories and love. Be open. Open. Open. Learn. Accept. Change. Stop your weeping for your tears will tarnish who and what you have become. Live for what you deserve—and it is not that fork. Our own happily ever afters could have already begun. Life, my dear friend is an awfully big unpredictable adventure. And besides—sometimes it takes a dish to run away with a spoon."
And with that, a sliver of a silver smile crept across the little spoon's silver face. It turned back to sleep in its quaint little box, in its quaint little kitchen, in its castle not so far far away, and for the first time in a long time, it began to shine all by herself.
Before long, the silver spoon no longer dreamt of seeing the world alone, for here, beside it, gleamed a shiny steel adventure.
For a time, the little silver spoon and the shiny steel fork would work in unison, taste the wonders of life, explore the castle and the world beyond its cold gray walls.
***
One sunny morning, the silver spoon peered out of its quaint little box and found that the familiar steely shine it had grown to love was gone. The steel fork was gone.
Hours turned into days turned into a month. The steel fork was gone.
Until one day the steel fork was back. All at once the little silver spoon's heart spun with worry and anger and relief and joy. The little silver spoon waited and waited for the steel fork to regale it with tales of its absent adventure. But the stories did not come. The steel fork simply continued to gleam its strong silent shine.
Once, Twice, Three times more the silver spoon would awake to find the steel fork had gone. Once, Twice, Three times more the steel fork would reappear gleaming in its strong but silent way.
Sometimes, the Mistress' young son would hastily grab the steel fork and take it on their own private adventure. Upon its return, the steel fork would merely shine with dazzling strength and deafening silence.
The little silver spoon learned to stop asking questions, to stop expecting answers, to close its ears to stories, to dull its shine and deaden its heart.
The defeated silver spoon lamented the days when both spoon and fork, silver and steel, shone in harmony. It was a false harmony realized the silver spoon. The silver spoon felt weaker than ever. It had given its silver shine to the steel fork—a protective silver shine shielding him from the muck and grime of the world. The little silver spoon had shone and sparkled for the steel fork when in truth, the cold stainless fork shone so brilliantly only for itself, while taking with it more of the silver spoon's shine. Upon each return, the silver spoon would shine so brightly for the silent steel fork—and upon each disappearance the silver spoon grew more dull and more gray.
Now, weak and forlorn, the silver spoon had given up all its shine to the selfish steely fork. The little silver spoon's energies and hopes and dreams and joys had become as dusty and unused and forgotten as the silver spoon itself had become—neglected and abandoned in a corner of its quaint little box by a mate who is always both absent and present.
***
One day, as the little silver spoon was gazing, weathered and numbed, outside the quaint little box, the figure of the Mistress appeared. Hidden behind her ringed fingers pierced the fork's familiar steely shine joined by the equally brilliant shine of a stainless steel knife.
Images of fork and knife together, piercing flesh, tearing flesh, flesh and flesh, flooded the silver spoons hazy mind—the cold steely knife upon the cold steely fork in the way that the silver spoon's delicate silver frame used to lay. The little silver spoon suddenly understood that behind the strong silent shine hid a loud secret shout.
As the Mistress hung both knife and fork on their little metal hooks, the little silver spoon watched them with regret and sadness. The steely knife gleamed with a blinding brilliance as it faced the sad little spoon. But the shiny steel fork looked different yet the same. Its strong gleam has lost no luster, its strength and shine intact, but the change was in the way the steel fork shone no longer for the silver spoon, or perhaps never had at all.
A steely spike took the place of the steel silent shine in the silver spoon's heart. The silver spoon's little corner in its quaint little box became suddenly darker and colder as it knew in its silver little heart that the steel fork was lost forever.
***
Late one evening, something stirred beside the quaint little box. The silver spoon crept up to the box's side and peered out into the darkness. A small canvas pouch began to stir and out of it popped the strangest utensil the sad little spoon has ever seen. The little spoon stared into a face that looked much like its own, but on its head sat the undeniable prongs of a fork.
"What are you?!" asked the little spoon in disbelief.
"I, my dear friend," replied the newcomer, "am a spork. I possess the grounded dependability of a spoon, and the determined assertion of a fork. I am the best of both worlds but live in neither."
Longing for a friend, the silver spoon began to weep.
Despite the spork's strange appearance and strange ways and strange presence, it consoled the sad silver spoon.
"Weep not, dear one, for beyond and within your quaint little box, in this quaint little kitchen, in this magnificent castle lies adventure that at once is greater than your wildest dreams and not so far far away."
"Speak not in riddles you bizarre creation!" wept the silver spoon. "I have seen the world and tasted adventure. I have met spoons, and forks and knives from both ends of the earth. I have tasted heaven and dined with the weak."
"Open your eyes, my gilded jilted friend. For one who has seen so much of the world do not be blinded by the heaviness of your heart. It is our nature to feel, but it must also be in our nature to move forward and upward. The world is more than kitchens and castles and spoons, forks or knives. Each day you leave your quaint little box is an adventure unlike the last. Open your heart to heartaches and joys. Possibilities. Endings. Beginnings and what may come. There is more to the world than a strong silent shine. Fill your head with wisdom, your heart with memories and love. Be open. Open. Open. Learn. Accept. Change. Stop your weeping for your tears will tarnish who and what you have become. Live for what you deserve—and it is not that fork. Our own happily ever afters could have already begun. Life, my dear friend is an awfully big unpredictable adventure. And besides—sometimes it takes a dish to run away with a spoon."
And with that, a sliver of a silver smile crept across the little spoon's silver face. It turned back to sleep in its quaint little box, in its quaint little kitchen, in its castle not so far far away, and for the first time in a long time, it began to shine all by herself.
*********
Image From: http://fofoa.blogspot.com/2011/09/once-upon-time.html
Posts
Dear little silver spoon,
ReplyDeleteIf i were lucky enough to be amongst your circle of utensil friends, I will protect you at all costs & I will not expose your heart to prying eyes.
Love always,
Egg beater
I wonder who knife is? so sad for spoon!
ReplyDeleteMy heart goes out to you beautiful silver spoon as you've clearly given all your shine to a very undeserving fork.I have a gut feeling though that he was not a true steel fork because a true steel fork has class,but rather a steel coated fork and if I'm right,and I'm confident that I am,then fret no more because everyone knows coated untensils discolor.As for the knife..well let's just put it this way..they'll eventually stab each other because that's what pointed untensils do.Get out of your box and continue to bring your shine on sister because I feel in my heart that there's an authentic-tested-and-proven steel untensil lurking from his quaint little box waiting for you to welcome him into your life with open arms.
ReplyDeleteMuch love to you from a simple,wooden ladle
Geo you are a brilliant writer, i must say. Although you write this in riddle, i know who the characters are, and silver spoon is obe we loved.
ReplyDelete