The Sistine Chapel Ceiling

High up in a big, quiet room, I stretch out like a giant storybook in the sky. Before anyone knows my name, they see my colors. I have bright blues, warm reds, and sunshine yellows. I am covered in pictures of strong, gentle people who fly and reach and tell stories without a single word. They look so real, like they could float right down to you. I am a ceiling that dreams. I am the Sistine Chapel Ceiling. I love it when children look up at me with wide, wondering eyes. They see a whole world above their heads.

A long, long time ago, a man with busy hands and a big imagination gave me all my colors. His name was Michelangelo, and he loved to create beautiful things. It was the year 1508 when he started his big job. To reach me way up high, he built a tall wooden bridge that felt like it touched the clouds. For four whole years, he lay on his back on that bridge, looking up at me. With his paintbrush, he went dab, dab, dabbing all day long. Sometimes, colorful paint would drip right onto his face. Splat. It was a funny sight, but he kept working. He painted stories from a special book, the Bible, so that everyone who came into the big room could look up and see something amazing. He wanted them to feel like they were looking right up into a beautiful, happy heaven filled with sunshine and gentle friends.

Today, people from all over the world still come to see me. They come from far away towns and cities just to visit. They walk into my big room, tip their heads all the way back, and say 'Wow.'. Then they get very, very quiet as they look at all my pictures. I show them that a ceiling doesn't have to be plain and white. It can be a magical window to amazing stories. I hope when you see my pictures, you remember to always look up, use your imagination, and find the beauty that is all around you, every single day.