“Tell us the story of the wall, Daddy.”
That’s what my daughter says every time her brother tries to get me to tell some elaborate story of how Batman entered the Star Wars universe and beat up the emperor only to find out that the Joker has somehow obtained a lightsaber.
Whatever. But Andi? She wants to hear about the wall.
I have no idea how this started, but at some point I told my children about the Berlin Wall. Yep, the real Berlin Wall. And now Andi, for at least a year, has wanted to hear the story of “the wall.” Here’s how it generally goes:
“There is a country way across the ocean called ‘Germany.’ And the leaders of Germany couldn’t get along, so they decided that they would be two countries. They put up a big wall, right in the middle of their capital city, and it was very sad. There were families who couldn’t see each other for a long time because they couldn’t get across the wall.
Then one day, (and this is Andi’s favorite part, where she usually interrupts and finishes the story on her own) the people decided they had enough of the wall, so they took their hammers and saws and axes and they started to tear down the wall. And when it was done, the families could see each other again.”
I have left out of the story the finer points of democracy, Ronald Reagan, and a few other minor details, but it gets the basic point across.
All that to say, the children are now convinced we should go on vacation to Germany, which I’m all for, except that I think they might be a little underwhelmed at seeing the wall. And then they’ll want to go to German Disneyworld, which I don’t know exists.
So here’s to history, friends, and the telling of good stories while the children still want their daddies to tell them.