“Play is the work of the child.”
– Maria Montessori
When I was a little girl, my mom would take me antiquing with her. I would walk winding aisles past tattered quilts and dusty books, cracked tea cups and worn butter churns. The smells and textures are so vivid for me, even still. But just as vivid are the imaginary worlds I would create. Mysteries and investigations around every corner, curiosities and stories, all wrapped up in the old stamps I collected, the skeleton keys I kept, the vintage maps and Nancy Drew books I lingered over. They remain visible and touch-able to me even now, all these years later, displayed on shelves and framed on walls. For me, these bits and bobs transcend time and space…they are story. My story. The treasures of a childhood.