Cesar

I found you

In the city where luck fakes abundance

where drinks are spilled,

And love prevails.

.

In a bin you sat amid others,

Of blues and yellows and greens.

Half my size with a purple horn and glittery feet,

I pulled you free of your plastic prison.

.

I begged and cried

And asked and whined.

Dad said I didn’t need another toy,

But mom only smiled.

.

“Name him Cesar,”

She said as she paid the clerk.

The building around us glittered in gold,

With a Gondola ride in the center.

.

Though Cesar’s palace we rode,

Gliding through the water below us.

I held you tight to my chest,

And imagined our future together.

.

Wandering through the next decade

We’d go through many escapades

Of magical castles

And evil wizards.

.

I’d take you everywhere,

To Canada, and Europe.

To Costa Rica,

And we’d ride through the deserts of Arizona.

.

One day our innocence and imagination,

Would get us into an unfortunate problem.

From years of playing,

You’d be pushed too far.

.

As you’d start to fray,

I’d scream and cry.

I’d do what I could,

And stitch you up.

.

With a new scar on your side,

It would be a constant reminder.

You are mine.

I am yours.

.

You’re my Cesar,

Forever in my heart.

A Child’s Mind

When you’re a child, everyone’s your friend. There are no politics, no terrorists. You smile at strangers, and sometimes run up and give random people high-fives. You don’t judge others by their looks, or their religious beliefs. Everyone’s your best friend. As a child, I loved playing with dolls: Barbie dolls, bratz dolls and polly pockets.

One specific doll was my favorite. Beautiful and unique it looked just like myself with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a fair skin tone. The stomach area was soft cloth, and the arms, legs, and head hard plastic. When I was five or six, my mom decided to give that doll, her name was Crystal, a bath. Unfortunately there was an accident. She somehow made it to the dryer. Crystal came out looking like a Halloween ornament; Her stomach was shriveled, and most of the hair had burnt off. To my peers she was creepy, ugly and belonged in the trash. To me, she was the same doll I’d once loved.

Looking back on it, Crystal definitely belonged in a Halloween shop after her accident, even after my mom tried to clean her up. But as a child, I stilled played with her. She was deformed, but still beautiful. She was bald, but still stunning.

Today I still have that doll, in a box in the back of my closet. She was my favorite doll and is a part of my childhood. Easily enough, I could’ve refused the doll. I could’ve cried and screamed- thrown a fit. I could’ve tossed it and moved on with my life. But instead I kept her, played with her and cherished her. Today, she serves as reminder that we’re all a little different and who are we to judge? There’s something to learn from children.