This is what happened to me. I was born. The world opened up and closed again around me. It was big. My family was small. We held tight together and the world spun around us. I sat Indian-style and listened to “It’s A Small World” on an orange and white Fisher Price record player. I got older. I learned to read, write and do arithmetic. I kicked a black and white checkered ball and found that it was fun. I got older still. It happens. When I was nine, my family went to Norway to see family members I had never met. What a wonderful big world. My cousins and I stared at each other. We had no words in common. Then one of them came up and put his little hand in my bigger little hand. He loved me (he loved me and we had only just met!). He liked to kick a checkered ball too and then we had a language in common. My best friend’s family moved to Turkey, and my family went to visit. I thought, What a strange and different world? But it was just the same and just as lovely. In a pool in a hotel in a city with a name I could not pronounce, my friend and I sat on the shoulders of his father and a Turkish man and played chicken. Not such a big world after all. Very small indeed. I got older. It just keeps happening. Every new thing I did made the world bigger. The longer I did some new thing, the world became smaller. Then I began to move away from my little world. My dad said, “Make your world big,” so I looked and looked until I found a place where the world would be bigger again. I moved away from Kansas and went to school in Boston. I kept kicking a ball all the way through college. Somewhere along the way, I learned to read and write better, but I stopped doing arithmetic. I went home for vacations. My little family shattered to pieces. Divorce and anger and sadness. We lived in five different states, but we held tight together and the big world spun around us. Sometimes we didn’t want to hold tight together, but it made the world feel smaller. To be all alone and sad in a big world is frightening. In Boston, my world shrunk. My friends never let me be all alone and sad. Someone said, “You don’t always have to smile.” That made me smile. After a while, you can’t be sad any longer. My family got better. We stopped being sad. The world kept spinning. I went to Spain. A friend drove me to the airport, and I was scared. He said, “If you don’t like it, come back.” Then I wasn’t afraid anymore. I said, Now my world is big. What a wonderful big world. I lived with an old woman who didn’t speak any English. When I was sick one day, she rested her cool hand on my warm forehead. My mom does that too. Once I missed home. I heard a violin through a window, and I stopped to listen. It was one of my friend’s favorite songs – Pachelbel’s Canon. I remembered her laughing blue eyes. The thought made me happy and I smiled. What a tiny small world. I went home to Kansas City. So warm and cozy in a little world. All familiar places and all familiar faces. Back in Boston, my world wrapped tight around me. My last year to kick a checkered ball. More reading and writing. Still no arithmetic. All familiar places and all familiar faces. Suddenly, I am 22. It keeps happening, that getting older thing. I said, What to do, what to do, but I knew. My dad said, “Make your world big.” My friend said, “Make no little plans.” I couldn’t believe she said, “Make no little plans.” I made a big plan, and I made it for a big world. Look at all the little worlds. Little tiny worlds made of stories and feelings and people we love. All floating together in the big round world. Never be lonely! An orange and white Fisher Price record player. The sound of music from a thin black disc. It’s a Small World spinning. Make your world big. Smile and wave and go. If you don’t like it, come back. Yes, one can always turn around and go home. I was born. The world opened up and closed again around me. What a wonderful big world. Very small indeed. I’ll take my small world and go. Yes, I’ll smile and wave and I’ll know: This is what happened to me.
Rebecca Beyer, a senior in the College of Arts and Sciences, has been a weekly columnist for The Daily Free Press.
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