cuentame una historia

"He went by train to St. Petersburg where his parents were, and he met a Russian girl there," her weak blue eyes stare unseeingly ahead of her, seeing instead in her mind's eye the past as she can best remember it, concentrated on the memories that she is telling me about her father.

"She had worked for the Czarina, who you know," she prompts me to remember, "was married to Nicholas II. That was before the revolution. She was a chambermaid for the Czarina."

I nod, listening as my great-grandmother tells of the St. Petersburg of Czar Nicholas II and Empress Alexandra before 1917, and how the former chambermaid became her father's second wife and mother for his young children. Although the chambermaid is not really related to me, it is still fascinating to hear of the events and people that took part in shaping the life of my 101 year-old great-grandmother. Hers are not all "happily ever after" kinds of stories, and now they are slightly faded at the edges of her memory and probably replayed many times throughout her life.

We all have stories, no matter what age we are. I think it is important to tell them; primarily for ourselves, because telling them is a positive creative action that helps us heal, deal with pain, process thoughts, share happiness, entertain, bond socially and know each other. If the story is sad, a sympathetic listener works as a balm. And if the story is happy, the joy is doubled in telling it. If the story is clever, the reaction is worth waiting for.

Also, telling stories is important for the listener. To borrow the words of Scheherazade in Arabian Nights, stories teach us how to live. For centuries people have told stories: sometimes fantastic tales of magic swords or talking animals, perhaps genies in lamps, sometimes about the local news or historical occurrences, even allegories and personal experiences. Famous teachers and the best speakers capture our interests with illustrations and stories, much in the same way Scheherazade did with her husband, the Sultan Shahryar who planned to kill her after their wedding night. She told him stories for 1001 nights, it is said, and through them his madness was cured, he let her live and even defeated his villain brother.

Storytelling is integral to human community. Societies and cultures have stories about the beginning of the world and their group of people, about ethics and the workings of nature. They have stories of infamous characters and national heroes which are then recalled in times when an example to live by is lacking, or a common foundation is needed. For example, Simón Bolívar, the Liberator of Latin America, is one of those characters whose story rouses from its historical slumber to give impulse and inspiration for current causes--one of the most obvious being the Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela's revolutionary agenda. Some stories are so well-known that a mere allusion to a name can conjure complex implications: 9-11, Noah, Shakespeare, Bush, to pick a few.

Truly the spectrum of human activity can at times dismay as well as inspire. Whether the story is about a Russian chambermaid, your summer holiday, insecure sultans or freedom-fighters, I will concur with Madeleine L'Engle when she says, we are amazing, we human beings. We do wonderful things, and we do terrible things--but, above all, we make marvellous stories. We do. So let the stories be spun and the audiences be hooked, for we the people have much to heal from and much to learn.