Let's Pretend

            All over the world, children pretend.  Even without toys, children will “play act,” pit good guys against bad guys, make-believe they are grownups, play house, invent dialog, and live in an imaginary world from time to time.

            Little girls have dolls and dollhouses, and you often see them dressed up like fairy princesses, heading into the grocery store with their parents.  Little boys build elaborate cities for their cars and trains, create scenarios for their action figures, and dress up in capes and toy guns to fight evil.

            We grow up and stop playing with toys, but we never lose that wonderful enjoyment of make-believe.  Sit down in any theatre and you are surrounded by people who have agreed to suspend disbelief for two hours, while someone takes them to an imaginary place via plays or movies.  It takes us no time at all to accept this invitation to pretend with the writers, and be swept into their created world.

            It’s absolutely the same with reading.  We curl up with a great story, and set aside our real-life concerns (we know they’ll be waiting for us, when we return).  And off we go to explore a jungle, fight pirates on the high seas, fall in love, solve a mystery, conquer in battle, save a life.  We’re willingly lost in a fictitious tale, perfectly content to be led wherever it takes us.

            Even people who don’t read respond this way to the promise of an exciting story.  Look how people perk up when someone says, “Guess what I just heard!”  It may be gossip or breaking news of a burglary down the street, it’s doesn’t matter.  It promises drama and intrigue, and people gather round. 

            Scientists claim that there are certain basic human needs—safety, shelter, food, water, even acceptance.  But I believe they left one off the list: The need to pretend.  Have you ever been at a library during reading time for the kids?  Who’s in the background?  Adults with no children!  They noticed the story being told, the pages being turned, and they stopped to watch.  It’s as if no one under the sun can resist the line, “Once upon a time…”  And that, my friends, is your job: To fascinate, to entertain, to answer that basic human need for make-believe.  What a wonderful choice you made.