A Little World for Little People

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 1052, 16 August 1930, Page 31

A Little World for Little People

FRIENDSHIP IS A STEADY LIGHT SHINING IN DARK PLACES L * THE LAND OF LOST CHILDREN “WHY are you sitting there hugging your knees, Little Tf Thought?” asked the Joyshop man. “At first I decided you had called on me for some bottled sunshine, but you’ve been sitting on my doorstep for over ten minutes, and your eyes are fall of dreams. Are you making up another story?” “Not exactly,” answered the Little Thought, with a happy sigh. “I was just remembering a dream I had last night. It was a very beautiful dream, and I can’t help thinking about it. Some day, perhaps, I shall make it into a story and call it ‘The Land of Lost Children.’ It happened the moment I fell asleep, Mister Joyshop man. I seemed to be flying and flying with tireless wings through golden sunshine to the very edge of the world. ‘Someone must have sent me on an errand,’ I thought, although I had no idea what message I had- to deliver. Beneath me there were mountain peaks like jewels in the sun and rivers like silver ribbons; then all at once I found myself in a dense mist. Tiny beads of vapour clung to my wings, and I could hear a soft voice saying, ‘This is the Mist of Forgetfulness that shields a hidden country from the eyes of the Outside World.’ Then the mist cleared away, and I found myself in the Land of Lost Children. There were myriads of little people there, some of them in old fashioned clothes, and some quite modern-looking. They were of all natipnalities, too, and I saw some little grave-eyed Chinese boys flying kites. Some Eskimo children were making a wonderful snow slide, little English girls were playing with dolls, boys of all sizes were sailing boats or bowling hoops, and the air rang with happy laughter. ‘Have you come to stay with us?’ asked a little girl. ‘Not for always,’ I explained. ‘Something made me come here, but soon I must return to Happy Town. What country is this?’ ‘lt is the Land of Lost Children,’ whispered the little "irl. ‘We used to live in the Outside World, but we grew up into men and women. lam really just the ghost of a little girl who lived nearly thirty years ago. When the lady I grew up into looks at her own little girl she remembers me, in spite of the Mist of Forgetfulness. That wee girl over there with the golden curls is a granny now, and that little boy playing with the toy rabbit is a Prime Minister. Every minute someone grows up, and new plavmates for us are always arriving. When you go back to the Outside World, please tell people about it. So many of them have forgotten their childhood.’ And then I opened my eyes, Mister Joyshop man, and Doctor Spring Sunshine was smiling down on me. Why, n your eyes are full of dreams, r-ZoudjU too I think you must know i. hZJ something about the Land of -- ~ ■ Lost Children.” V.