The Magic Lamp

I walk through the snow, the wind blowing all around me. I carry my sled in my hand and a smile on my face. The hill is steep and rocky and when I get to the top I am panting, my breath coming out in great white clouds. I lie on my belly, the sled under me. I kick off and begin to slide. The world is flying past me. I race past rocks great and small. I slow down and finally stop.

As I prepare to climb back up the hill something catches my eye. I walk in its direction, the snow falling heavily. I stop five feet from the mysterious object and stare in wonderment as I realize what it is. There, quite out of place in this cold gray world, is a golden lamp. There it lay, completely untouched by the snow. It draws me closer. I take a step towards it. Intricate designs wind their way across its surface: pictures of people, places, beings and monsters now long, long gone. I cover the distance between us and slowly pick up the lamp.

Then, erupting from within, comes forth a genie. He stands before me, tall and majestic. His skin is as dark as the midnight sky, a gold turban on his head. His great legs are covered by pants of purple, blue, and maroon. Although his chest is bare he shows no sign of chill. His deep-set eyes twinkle like stars. He seems untouched by time or weather. In a deep musical voice that makes the earth tremble he says to me, "I am a genie. Three wishes will I grant unto you. No more, no less." Seeing that I remain silent he inquires, "Why do you hesitate? I can grant any wish, simply tell me what you desire.” Finding that I still say nothing he sits down on a large stone and watches me with a searching eye.

Speaking to myself I thoughtfully say, " I wish for many things: I wish that I had wings to fly as far and as high as I please. I wish that my friend would love his father. I wish that his sister did not feel so alone and so burdened. I wish that my father was not cursed with thoughts, feelings and emotions that he has almost no control over. I wish all people were considered equal, no matter their race or gender." I sigh mournfully. "I wish I could forgive my uncle. But that is far more than three wishes, and I know that they are not meant to be. My friend must learn to love, and I must learn to forgive. A loved one can not suddenly become free of all burdens. People like me need to listen to them and do what we can to help, only then can they be free.” To the genie I say, “The things that truly matter are the things you can not give me."

After a few more moments of reflection I tell the genie, "I wish for you to go home and be free, but I request that you travel and teach others the same lesson that you have taught me." The broad smile on the genie's face vanishes quickly from my sight but the warm and hearty sound of his laugh and the comfort I feel lasts much, much longer.

Luthlian