[blockquote source=”Natalie Babbitt”]“Like all magnificent things, it’s very simple.”[/blockquote]

I still remember my very first day of elementary school. I had spent weeks looking forward to this day – my mind spilling with the excitement of yet another brand new adventure.

My mother, an artist, had taken such great care to send me with only the very best of supplies – to include, a hand-stitched red stocking hat and a brand new box of 16 Crayola crayons.

The bus ride seemed to last forever. With every stop, I fidgeted impatiently. “Why must they walk so slowly?” The anticipation was nearly overwhelming, and…against my mother’s sternest of warnings, I pulled out that box and opened it.

The colors were so magnificent – mulberry and mint and a crisp shade of violet-blue. I ran my fingers of their ‘sharpened’ wax tips, imagining all the masterpieces I had yet to create.

I was like a child at Christmas waiting for Art Class to ‘arrive.’

9:56…9:57…then, finally, 10 o’clock!

I raced through my desk, eager to show off my newest acquisition. “My mom makes art,” I had rehearsed these words so many times over again in my head. I mean, with so many magnificent colors, I was certain that my artwork would be the best in town.

Until I looked around, and saw…that on every single desk surrounding me was a much larger box of 64.

I must say, I felt a bit betrayed. I mean, how could my mother has missed such a thing? She always took such great care in making sure we had all that was needed.

I watched as the others drew such bold scenes. Rainbows with indigo, and clouds traced with blizzard blue. Why, even the little girl sitting next to me drew a sun with 5 different colors.

With just 16 sad little colors, how could I ever compete?

I could hardly hold back the tears, as I walked through our kitchen door. The ‘masterpiece’ I’d created earlier had been relegated to the very bottom of my book bag. I was simply too embarrassed to share it with my mother, ‘the artist.’

I must have cried for at least an hour before my mother entered my room – in her hand, the uncrumpled drawing I had so desperately tried to destroy.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a tree more magnificent than this,” she smiled as tears formed in her eyes. You see, what I had assumed might be destined for the trash, was – for my mother – the greatest expression of love.

And, it had absolutely nothing to do with the number of crayons I had used to create it.

You see, love comes from within, my darlings…and creativity, is an expression of our joy.

“I believe that we are all creative beings and that no matter what you’ve been told – you were placed here on this earth to create something of value to the world. Something that will help others break free, something that lights you up with passion and something that is larger than just you.” – Mastin Kipp

That little tree, in all of its simplicity, had the capacity to transform my mother’s whole world.

Because, my dearest darlings…in art, as it is in life…sometimes less is more.