The Broken Carousel

The carousel sat in an empty, rundown, overgrown park. The grass had grown up well above her base.  It was dry and itchy and rubbed against her in the most annoying and uncomfortable way.  The branches of the trees had overgrown so that many of them protruded into her spaces.  Even if someone did want to ride her – if she worked – she’d not be able to move because of the tree branches.  Some of the tree branches were covered with moss that hung down on the carousel like the gnarly, unkempt hair of witches in fairy tales.  Indeed, she did look more haunted than festive.  Her parts were rusted.  Her paint was dull and faded.  Many of her horses were missing ears and nostrils.  All of them had chunks gouged out of their saddles or manes.  One of her benches was completely missing, and another was missing its seat. None of her lights worked; several of her bulbs were busted; and she was certain she would never make music again.

It wasn’t always like this for the little carousel.  She used to be so beautiful, so festive, and so full of joy.  She longingly remembered brighter days when she would light up everything around her.  How she loved to spin with the music!  Oh what pleasure she found in the children’s laughter as they mounted the horses to spin with her!  She missed the proud, excited faces of the parents as they watched their children, waiving and calling their names as they passed.   Sometimes the parents would even ride with their children.  This was a real honor for the carousel. She loved bringing parents and children together.

The little carousel remembered the days when her colors were vivid, her lights luminous, her horses majestic, and her music cheerful and full of life.  Nostalgic for the days long past, did she dare continue down this road of memories. What if it was too painful? Did she allow herself to remember more?  Did she travel Remembrance Road, for surely it would only lead to the path of Broken Dreams.   She was so afraid, but she could not help herself.   She found herself drawn, as if by some unseen force, so she continued on.  She couldn’t stop the memories from intruding. She was drawn to remember!

In her mind’s eye, the little carousel could see the dream as if it were right in front of her:

The park was huge and covered with a carpet of lush, green grass.  It overlooked a very large and splendid dam.  The river below was so peaceful.  Scattered throughout the park were merry-go-rounds, slides, swings, and picnic areas.  A walking path meandered through the park.  Off to the right was a wishing fountain.   On her left were swan-shaped paddle boats gliding across a crystal blue lake.   Off in the distance were, basketball, volleyball, racquet ball, and tennis courts.  The landscape served as a butterfly garden, as it hosted an array of pink, red, and yellow flowers.  People of all ages were riding bikes, tossing Frisbees, throwing footballs, flying kites, reading books, or simply resting.  And of course, there were carousels, dozens of them! Some big.  Some small.  Some had only horses, while others had an assortment of animals.  One even had hot air balloons!

Though she knew it was impossible, in the secret places of her heart, the little carousel dreamed of becoming a two-story carousel with a variety of animals: daring dragons, majestic steeds, tiny ponies, rabbits, lions, dolphins, deer, etc.  She wanted animals large and small, fierce and dainty, for children of all ages to enjoy.  Her music was inviting, uplifting, and energetic.  When people rode her, they felt as though they could conquer anything.  They knew they were loved. They knew there was always hope.  Always hope…

Is that where her dream died?  Had the little carousel lost hope?  Oh to hope again! To believe! To dream!  If only she wasn’t so afraid…

Sometime later the little carousel caught a glimpse of a man passing through the park.  He seemed strangely familiar.   His presence seemed to be more and more frequent.  From time to time she would see him working in various areas of the park, trimming bushes, planting flower, cutting branches.  Every now and then he would look over at her with such a loving, tender expression and smile.  The little carousel couldn’t help but think that this man understood her loneliness, as if he too had experienced loss and rejection. .  Each look seemed to say, “I see you.  I understand.”  She couldn’t help herself. She began to cry.  She was embarrassed, but she cried anyway.  She could not stop the tears.  How she wished he would come over.  She didn’t know him, but oh how she wanted to.

As the carousel was crying, the man walked over.  He even climbed up and when he did, she cried harder.  Then she felt a soft, tender touch.  The touch was strong and sure and safe.  It was so very familiar. Oh she knew this touch. She knew it well.  This was the touch of the designer!  The master designer who had designed her so many years ago.  He knew every intricate detail of her workings; every gear, every bolt, every spring, every melody.   He had hand –carved and painted every horse. He knew her oh so very well!!   How had she not recognized him?

The designer walked around her, fondly caressing each horse as he walked by.  She couldn’t help herself. She was laughing and crying at the same time. Her tears spilled down onto the horses, and as they did, the designer took a soft cloth and gently and tenderly began to wipe each horse clean.  He patched, repaired, mended, and painted every horse.  Their colors were so vibrant, so vivid, so lovely.  The horses were restored and were more majestic and regal than she’d ever remembered.

But the designer didn’t stop there.  He restored her benches, making them stronger and more durable than before.  He replaces every burned out and broken bulb.  He tightened her bolts and screws and oiled all of her gears.  Nothing was overlooked. He worked meticulously until he had tended every detail.  The last thing the master designer did was to place a new music box into her control center.  Oh what rich melodies she played!  She had never produced such beautiful music.  She was so overcome with gratitude and love and joy just oozed  – no, it burst out of her with splendor and excitement much like fireworks!

The little carousel looked around. The park was full of people tossing Frisbees, flying kites, throwing balls, and reading books.  Merry-go-rounds and swings and slides were busy with gleeful participants.  Oh what’s this?  People were mounting her horses!! People of all ages!   The master designer whispered to her, “Dream, Little Carousel. Dream BIG! I’m not finished with you yet” He pushed a button and she began to spin with a greater joy than she had ever known. As she was spinning she was the smiling face of her designer, and she smiled back at him.  He threw his head back and laughed with great joy and said, “Spin, Little Carousel. Spin!”