|
Greetings, Ripplemakers |
|
|
|
A Childhood Ago
by
Kathy Ann Harris
|
It was just about 7:00, that evening; a childhood ago. And
the house was warm with the fragrance of food, glowing
candles, and Mom's perfume. Having just pulled on my jacket
I slipped outside, walked to the end of the driveway and
looked back. Wrapped around the house like a shiny necklace,
a string of colored lights glowed brightly in the foggy
December mist.
Digging my hands into my pockets, I took a deep breath. The
air was crisp and still, and the smell of cedar wood blazing
in the fireplace was escaping from the chimney. Through the
kitchen window, I could see Mom walking back and forth
between the stove and sink; an apron protecting her holiday
attire. Frosty puffs dispersed around me with each breath as
I hurried back to the house.
As I walked through the door, the hearty scents of food
enveloped me. Spread on the bar in the dining area, and
lovingly arranged, lay dishes of: potatoes, yams, poppy seed
rolls, crowder peas, potato salad, cole slaw, and much more.
Tucked away in the chilly garage, on top of the clothes
washer, was Mom's ambrosia fruit salad.
I peered into the family room. My brother had just finished
with the nativity scene. On the television screen an old,
black and white holiday classic played: Holiday Inn, with
Bing Crosby. From the living room, Christmas carols played
on the stereo. My father was stoking up the fire. Next to
the television was our Christmas tree. It looked like one
huge,
sparkling ornament. I bent over to admire it, and was
encompassed in its delicate pine fragrance.
I had just snatched up a piece of red and green striped,
hard curlicue candy, when the doorbell rang. Rushing to the
door, I greeted my grandparents.
After everyone had arrived, we gathered in a circle with our
hands clasped and offered up a prayer of thanksgiving.
Having done this, we descended upon the food.
Christmas Eve was one of the rare times that the entire
family got together. And I loved listening to the stories
they shared. Later, my brother and I get shuffled off
to bed; so the folks can get to the job of cleaning up.
An eternity later, we are 'awakened' with a knock on our
bedroom doors, followed by Mom poking her head in to wake us
up with a..."Merry Christmas. Guess who's been
here?"...greeting.
Christmas music spilled from the living room. I ran past the
small Christmas tree on the coffee table. The tree I had
made by folding the pages of a Reader's Digest magazine;
then spray painted green. I ran past the tumbleweed I had
chosen from the field across the street, sprayed with snow
and decorated with glass balls. And into the family room.
The lights on the tree glittered and glowed. A fire blazed
in the fireplace. All the gifts were heavy with waiting. On
the fireplace, a stocking for each of us.
Both my parent's were beaming. And to complete the scene, my
brother's dog, Sport, and my dog, Dopey, were in attendance.
Sport, old and arthritic, sat on the hearth of the
fireplace. We had to be careful with Sport. He was happiest
the closer he sat to the fire, and the only thing that saved
him from the flames was a quick eye and fast hands.
Then, it was over. And there we were, surrounded in piles of
Christmas wrap, bows, boxes and gifts. But there was more
surrounding us than just the material gifts on the floor at
our feet. We had the gifts we had exchanged in our
expressions, our laughter, and our hearts.
*
I have never enjoyed Christmas as I did through those
childlike perceptions. I believe it is best experienced that
way; alive with the smells, tastes, visions and feeling of a
child.
*
Shortly afterward, we lost my father, and both dogs.
Christmas has never been the same. But I can still enjoy it
through that childlike perception when I walk to the end of
the driveway, look back and see the house aglow with
Christmas. When I dig my hands deep into my pockets, take a
big breath, smell that cedar wood blazing, rush back to the
house before the guests arrive and remember....
Copyright 1992 by Kathy Anne Harris
***
I am an author and four of my books have been published.
They are available at Amazon.com, Borders.com, Xlibris.com,
and other online dealers. You can also order them from your
local bookstore. I also write poetry. I'm not really
restricted to any genre when writing which opens up a world
of creative subjects for me to write about. I enjoy the
freedom this gives me as I have a very vivid imagination and
I love to observe the world around me. It is a great stage
from which to draw inspiration. I am a social worker by day,
a writer by life. I live in CA.
Kathy Anne Harris
bluebelliedlizard @ earthlink.net
"Acquiring a dog may be the only opportunity a human ever
has to choose a
relative." - Mordecai Siegal
"Besides love and sympathy, animals exhibit other qualities
connected
with the social instincts which in us would be called
moral." - Charles
Darwin
http://mistdrifter.tripod.com/ToShareWithYou.html
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
May you be blessed today
Bob Johnston
Editor / Publisher
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
May you be blessed today
Bob Johnston
Editor / Publisher
|
|
Important Subscription Information |
|
To subscribe to this newsletter:
{Click Here}
________________________________________________
To Cancel your subscription:
Send an e-mail to Starfish@Ripplemaker.com with "Cancel
HTML" in the subject
__________________________________________________
To send a message to the editor/publisher:
write to Starfish@Ripplemaker.com
|
|
|
Visit Our Web Site www.Ripplemaker.com |
Learn how Starfish was named and why our members are called
"Ripplemakers". Read archived stories or "Starfish Gold"
stories ... Or subscribe to this daily e-zine.
Click
Here
|
|
Starfish Supporters
|
Heartfelt thanks to those of you who have sent your
financial support to help offset expenses. If you'd like to
offer your support, please write to me at:
Starfish@Ripplemaker.com
|
|
