Thursday, May 24, 2018

The Red Carpet

          My daughter, Michelle, perhaps because she is an only child, has always had a creative mind. I laughed at her live frog shows when she was six, and on another occasion, I dutifully ate her pink, blue, and green pancakes. But my thirty-second birthday is one of my most cherished memories.
         My birthday that year was not celebrated with friends and family as in years past. Michelle and I had a quiet dinner at home. She hadn't had a chance to go shopping for a gift and was disappointed that she had nothing to give me.
         About seven-thirty that evening, Michelle ordered me to go to my bedroom and close the door with instructions for me to stay there until she came for me.
         Twenty minutes later, she opened my door and stood in the hallway with a dishtowel draped over her left forearm. On the floor was a "red carpet" Michelle had pieced together from various shades of red fabric scraps my sister had given her to make doll clothes. "This way, madam," she said in a very formal tone, leading the way. My carpet of honor led to a beanbag chair that she had placed in front of the television.
         Beside the beanbag chair was a TV tray with a bowl of one of my favorite snacks-popcorn-a dish of melted butter, and a saltshaker. After seating me, she filled a small bowl with popcorn.
         "Would you like butter and salt on your popcorn tonight, madam?"
         "Why, yes, that would be very nice, thank you."
         She poured the butter on the popcorn with all the finesse of a waiter in a fine restaurant. Before handing me the popcorn, she pulled the towel from her arm and spread it over my lap, as she had experienced in some of the finer restaurants we had visited. Then she filled a bowl for herself and snuggled in beside me.
         We sat there together enjoying one of our favorite weekly television programs, eating our popcorn one kernel at a time with our little fingers raised, as any proper person would.
         "Is your popcorn okay, madam."
         "It's the best popcorn I've ever eaten," I replied. And the best birthday I've every had, I thought, smiling down at my precious "gift" sitting beside me.
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That story is from a book filled with little two or three paged stories. It is Stories for a Woman's Heart. I had a similar experience. I got the CD titled Newsies for my birthday. Maria had gotten that CD for her birthday sometime or another and I listened to it over and over again. It would be my dancing music. I would twirl and twirl around, imagining that I was one of the characters from that musical. I had never watched the movie until I was seven or eight. After I got the CD since Maria's was cracked a little and skipped it dawned on me that I hardly remembered a thing from the Newsies. From then on I pleaded with Mom and Dad to let me watch it. It was last Sunday and I doubted we would watch it on a Sunday, but I still begged. After church, I went to the barn to see how are kittens are doing. When I came in, Mom asked me if I would like to see the Newsies! I screamed yes and almost an hour later, Mom, Kim, Danny, and I were sitting on the couch with popcorn, Danny's TV screen on the piano bench and the curtains drawn trying to keep out the afternoon light. That was one of the shortest two hours of my life. There was so much to gobble up I want to watch it again. When I listen to the music, it is hard to understand what the actors are singing especially since the songs are pretty upbeat. I am learning new lyrics everyday. Now that school is out, Mom might get driven crazy from me listening to that almost every moment I can.

Changing the subject, yesterday was my last day of school! It was only a half day (finished at 11:15!) and all we did was sit on the couch until Miss Young's class joined us in playing Sardines and a big game of kickball were everybody got to kick once at the very end. Then we had a grand review of all Psalm 34. Camille wrote me the nicest note. On the front, it said, You can count on me like 1 2 3. Immediately, I teared up. I am right now. Oh the memories we made! Camille, Brie, Edie, Erica. The four musketeers! I'm going to miss the bathroom parties!

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