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After breaking Baby Bear’s chair, after eating his porridge, and after falling asleep in his bed, what happens to Goldilocks? In some versions of the story she gets eaten by the three bears. In other versions she runs away. And in a sentimental re-telling of the story for today’s children, who some parents believe must be protected from any suggestion of violence, Baby Bear befriends the little house-breaker who returns frequently to play in the woods with her new found bruin friends.

Fairytales are elastic. They stretch in the imagination of the teller of the tale. But there are limits to how far one can bend a story and it remain true to itself.

Does it really matter if Goldilocks is eaten by the bears, runs away, or is befriended? Probably not. But it had better include a broken chair, an empty bowl, and a comfortable bed. And don’t neglect the oft repeated formulary: “Whose been sitting, eating, or sleeping in my chair, porridge or bed?”

Fairytales are not the only thing stretched and twisted by the human imagination. Our memories are as elastic as fairytales. Even one’s most recent experiences may be formed in surprising ways by the oh so creative imagination.

Two people share a common experience. Five minutes later, each will relate the tale in different ways. One will lift up one aspect of the event as of utmost importance. Another will overlook that piece completely valuing what may seem of little consequence to the first.

Which description of the event is right?

The Ten Commandments exhorts us to speak the truth. “Do not bear false witness.” Hearing diverging descriptions of the same event that was commonly shared can lead to an argument.

“You are wrong.”

“That’s not the way I remember it.”

“It didn’t happen that way.”

Who is speaking truthfully?

The challenge of speaking the truth and hearing the truth requires developing a genuine appreciation of the human imagination. The imagination shapes, and forms and colors our memories. To bear false witness does not only mean misrepresenting what really happened. It includes denying oneself the responsibility to share what one believes, even though it may conflict with someone else’s description of the same event.

We know the Truth in the place where different versions of the same story converge. The imagination shapes, and forms and colors our memories. It makes our stories interesting. We discover the truth, in the place where our stories come together.

The Lord is known to us not when we all agree, but as we listen carefully to the richness of our varied experiences, shaped by the uniqueness of our truthbearing imaginations.