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During last July’s 5.8 earthquake, 3-year-old Bronwyn told her 1-year-old sister, “We’re going for a wiggle.” READ MORE
Mother Knows Best
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One of my favorite tasks when decorating our home for Christmas is setting up the Victorian village that rests at the base of our Christmas tree. I love to arrange the little snow-topped buildings and thimble-sized people in just the right spot, creating a perfect miniature community. The lady with the long, green dress I’m sure it’s really green velvet, though it feels ceramic to the touch carries a fluffy, white muff and her long, brown curls are always in place. Looking as though her only care is keeping warm, she appears to be totally enjoying this festive time of year. The man in the dark coat and knickers, with a scarf around his neck, tips his top hat to the lady and escorts her through the cobblestone streets as though he has plans for the two later on. And there are the children, bundled from head to toe, who have fun every Christmas, skating on the ice-covered pond in the center of town. I can almost hear their joyful laughter. Up on the hill, grandma and grandpa are coming down the steps of the old stone church, the one with the tall white steeple and stained glass windows. My town is called Perfectville. The further we get from 18th century London and Dickens’ era, the more it seems we are drawn back to that time. I wonder, as I step back to see the tranquil world I’ve created, what it would be like to live there. Christmas carols playing softly in the background, I imagine myself among them, walking alongside the couple with designs on each other, past the general store, the city hall and the bed and breakfast inn. I can feel the snowflakes, the crisp air. There is no traffic on the quiet streets, only a horse-drawn sleigh with another couple happily wrapped up in a plaid blanket. Neither is talking on a cell phone. The grandparents look healthy and happy, without concern about healthcare or the cost of prescription drugs. Even the kids, ice-skating on the pond, seem carefree. Skating in circles, round and round, there is no gang-related activity to worry about. The town is without fear of a terrorist attack. It’s said that Christmas is the day that binds time together. I wonder, though, 200 years from now, will there be little ceramic villages from the early 2000s under Christmas trees? Will the year 2004 actually be a simpler time to those who will live in 2204? Will AIDS, cancer and diabetes have long been eradicated? Will Al-Qaeda live only in world history books? Will I have become the lady in the long, green velvet dress? Senior Writer Kimberly A. Porrazzo can be reached at kimberlyporrazzo@cox.net. For Letters: ocfamily.com. |
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