Back in my day, a boy’s Christmas wish list was a symphony of wood and metal. Model airplanes, meticulously crafted from balsa wood and tissue paper, soared alongside erector sets that dared to defy gravity. Lincoln Logs, those sturdy giants of childhood construction, transformed into whimsical forts. Building was the king, and we, the eager architects, ruled our miniature kingdoms.
Then came Legos. Oh, the glorious chaos of Legos! These plastic wonders, in a rainbow of colors, unleashed a torrent of creativity. Castles morphed into spaceships, dragons, and even rudimentary robots. The possibilities were endless, limited only by a child’s imagination (and perhaps the occasional foot-piercing incident).
Fast forward to today, and my youngest grandkids are wielding weapons of mass construction: Magna-Tiles. These magnetic marvels defy description. They click and snap together with an almost supernatural ease, forming fantastical structures that would make even the most seasoned architect weep with envy.
The materials may have changed – from wood to plastic to magnetic magic – but the urge to build remains as strong as ever. It’s a primal instinct, deeply ingrained within us. Ask any homeowner. Their garage, a shrine to the cult of DIY, overflows with tools: power drills that hum menacingly, saws that sing a terrifying song, and enough sandpaper to exfoliate a small army.
But who taught us to build? Who ignited this insatiable desire to create, to shape the world around us? Was it God, the ultimate architect, the master builder of the universe? If so, one has to wonder… did God use a hammer? Did angels wield screwdrivers? And does the Almighty need a new set of drill bits this Christmas? Perhaps a titanium hammer and a lifetime supply of cosmic nails?
One thing’s for sure: whether we’re building a sandcastle on the beach, a Lego spaceship, or a real-life dream home, the spirit of the builder lives on. It’s a testament to the enduring power of creativity and the joy of bringing something new into existence, even if it’s just a cardboard box fort.
Love this story! So true from my perspective with what my children and grandchildren played with for years! I played with them in building cool houses! 😉