Keys can hold freedom or they can take away freedom. Keys hold power and give power. Something so insignificant and small can release a prisoner from his chains. Keys can unlock doors with secrets behind them. They can also lock doors and hide things away. So small and insignificant. There is an illusion growing up. When we were children we thought the adults held all the power and freedom. We would often hear things like “go to your room” or “you will not go outside today it’s too wet”. That never stopped us from exploring with our minds and having fun. As we got older I’ve noticed children have more freedom than anything, even kings. Now your brain is thinking of all the horrible things of this world that can change that freedom for a child. I’m not talking physical freedom. A parent can punish the child. A death can steal it from children, but I’m talking of the essence of freedom. Imagination is freedom. Imagination is power. Children have a vast amount of that. It’s only when the child trades that in for the realities of this world that the child loses freedom. A child willingly gives that up. Think of the last time you played outside and truly enjoyed yourself. Think of the last time you played with friends and imagination ran wild with curiosity of the world. Did you have an imaginary friend growing up? When was the last time you had a conversation with them? I am an only child. I had loads of imagination and wonder. I would stalk the halls of my home. Playing knights and dragons. Good always vanquishing evil. I never lost a battle. Sliding down the stairs with whatever I could use around me. Giving my mother all kinds of worry about every scrape and new scar I would collect on my adventures. I gave the staff a heartache and a half with all the trouble I would cause. My tutors made learning exciting. They harnessed my imagination and taught me of the stars and turned history into a full act. But…….That all changed the day my father died. On his deathbed he gave me this key and told me, “son, you are no longer a child. I need you to become something more than you are. For your mother. For me. For your people.” That’s was seven years ago. I’m now eighteen. I have to be crowned a true ruler today. *yippe* I’m sitting in the courtyard thinking about all of this. I keep staring down at this key. At my coronation I am to open a box that holds my crown. It’s tradition for us to not see the crown forged for new kings. Each king gets a different version of the same metals and added metals to the new king. It’s symbolic to take what was given and make a new way. For seven years my mother and uncle ruled as acting regents until my coming of age. My uncle is a frail man and my mother is sweet, kind and not a king. As she reminds me all too often. She hates it. I don’t blame her. I wake in the night full of sweat and stress about it. Today is the day though. I cannot change this no more than I can stop time from ticking. This key is the last thing my father ever gave me and I gave him my freedom and the power to choose. From here on out I do what others request of me. What they demand of me. What they need of me. Children really do have more freedom than kings.