[stylist] Christmas exercise

Tue Dec 20 03:08:32 UTC 2011

Whatever the reason, for me the less after the, "ah-ha," moment, the better :)

Brad


On 12/19/2011  08:51 PM Donna Hill said...
>Brad,
>Thanks. I thought about dropping the last paragraph about her sister, but
>not for the reason you give. In my mind, the sister loses her sight long
>after the incident in the grocery store. When I wrote it, I thought I needed
>something like that, but now I wonder.
>Donna
>
>
>-----Original Message-----
>From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
>Behalf Of Brad Dunsé
>Sent: Monday, December 19, 2011 7:45 PM
>To: Writer's Division Mailing List
>Subject: Re: [stylist] Christmas exercise
>
>Donna,
>
>I really like this. You drew us right in to the
>surprise ending. I didn't really see it coming,
>but hind sight it should have been obvious, I
>think that is to your writer credit. I don't
>think you need the bit on the end of Diane's
>sister being blind as it gives me the thought
>that she then ought have known about working dogs. Very nice though.
>
>Brad
>
>
>
>On 12/19/2011  06:14 PM Donna Hill said...
> >Hi Friends,
> >
> >I dug this piece out of my old files. It's an experiment done in the first
> >person -- everything in the first person is a bit of an experiment for me,
> >as I'm much more comfortable with third person even when writing about
> >myself. An older woman is telling the reader a story while taking care of
> >her granddaughter , as though you were sitting in the room with her.
>Anyway,
> >I thought I'd share. I've copied it below and attached it.
> >
> >Donna
> >
> >
> >
> >The Christmas Bazaar
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >I saw Diane this morning -- Snyder, I think her name is now.  She asked me
> >to have coffee with her at Molly's.  It still bothers her, even after all
> >these years.  Of course I've never told her that I saw the whole thing; she
> >feels bad enough as it is.
> >
> >
> >
> >No, sweetie, stay away from Grandma's china.
> >
> >
> >
> >Where was I?  Yes, well it happened years ago, when I was the director of
> >the interfaith ministries and thrift shop.  It was a good job -- not much
> >money but lots of nice people, and Jim's practice was thriving, so it's not
> >like I really had to work.
> >
> >
> >
> >Anyway, every December, we would have our Christmas Bazaar for families in
> >need.  People donated toys, mostly store-bought, but we received some
> >hand-made things too.  The Tyler's gave us adorable doll cradles - he made
> >them in his shop and then she'd paint them. I had another lady who made rag
> >dolls with beautiful peasant dresses.  One old guy - I can't believe I
>don't
> >remember his name!  But, he made wagons and other toys, yoyos and puzzles,
> >that sort of thing.
> >
> >
> >
> >And of course, we had Susan.  She liked to knit and she brought in
>beautiful
> >afghans all year round - lap warmers, she called them - for our ladies in
> >assisted care.
> >
> >
> >
> >To tell you the truth, I was a bit skeptical when I first took over.  I
> >didn't know that she had been doing it for years.  I was confused about
>what
> >to do with them.  What price could I put on them that wouldn't be an insult
> >to her or too high for our patrons!
> >
> >
> >
> >So, I mentioned something to Susan and she set me straight, said they were
> >to be given away, either to old people or new mothers.  She told me that
> >would be worth more than any money we could get, and she was right.
> >
> >
> >
> >The first one that fall -- I'll never forget it -- it was pale blue and so
> >soft!  There was a ruffle on top, and the sides and bottom were scalloped.
> >It looked like a picture frame, borders of different patterns one inside
>the
> >next with a leafy vine in the middle.
> >
> >
> >
> >I went along with Joan - she had the elder ministry in those days -- to
> >Jenny's place.  She really makes it nice for them, so homey, you know?  I
> >remember that day; she had Indian corn on the mantle.Isn't it strange how
> >some things stick with you?
> >
> >
> >
> >My goodness, was I nervous going there the first time!  But, I suppose
>we're
> >all a bit uncomfortable with that sort of thing, seeing how frail they are
> >and the oxygen tubes and such.  I shouldn't talk; I'll be there soon enough
> >myself.
> >
> >
> >
> >Sweetie, hold still.you're going to trip over your laces!  Someday, you'll
> >be able to do this all by yourself.There you go.
> >
> >
> >
> >She's such a blessing!  Anyway, the lap warmer.   I didn't know who to give
> >it to.  I looked around for quite a while.  There was this one little old
> >lady in a rocking chair by the fireplace; she didn't have anyone, and she
> >was so sweet.  Still had a twinkle in her eye, you know?  She was thrilled
> >to have something hand-made, said that shade of blue was her favorite
>color.
> >I felt great about it!  I still can't help smiling to myself whenever I
> >think of it.
> >
> >
> >
> >That Christmas Susan made the cutest little pillow and afghan sets for
>dolls
> >and brought them in for the bazaar.  The pillows had a multi-colored design
> >on the front.  I don't know a thing about knitting myself, but they were
> >like miniature decorator pillows, fringed and -- I can still remember
> >touching them -- the backs felt like wide wale corduroy.
> >
> >
> >
> >Diane was one of the young mothers that year.  She had it rough; the father
> >of those children never lifted a finger to help.  Anyway, she came in and
> >picked out some things for the kids.  I had seen her before. She had been
>in
> >a few times with the little girl while the other two were in school.  I
> >always tried to talk to the customers.remember their names.make them feel
> >like there was some connection.  Anyhow, I noticed Diane looking at the
>sets
> >and went over to talk to her a bit.  She seemed so down, wouldn't even look
> >at me.  She rummaged through them for quite a while and then asked if she
> >could take a lilac one.  She said the little girl was crazy about anything
> >purple. Naturally, I told her she could.that's what they were there for.
> >She actually smiled at me.  It's the little things like that, that make you
> >think you're really helping.
> >
> >
> >
> >I didn't think anymore of it.  Then, one evening - it was just after
> >Christmas -- I stopped at the market after work for a few things.
> >
> >
> >
> >I saw Diane up ahead. She looked exhausted. I don't think she noticed me.
> >The older two were fussing with each other and the little girl was prancing
> >around.  She was such a beautiful child!  About three years old at the
>time,
> >I'd imagine.  I could see her looking across the store.you know how they do
> >at that age with their eyes wide and their mouths hanging open?  I heard
> >Diane tell her to go pet the puppy.  When I looked up, I saw them standing
> >by the shopping cart.  I guess she was waiting for her husband to get
> >something down the aisle.  Her guide dog was just standing there as proud
>as
> >you please.  Oh, he was a beauty, shiny black coat and huge brown eyes!
> >
> >
> >
> >I guess Diane didn't know that you're not supposed to pet them.  I started
> >toward them, but I was too far away to say anything. It all happened so
> >fast.
> >
> >
> >
> >So, the little girl went running over to them as happy as all get out.  I
> >guess she had heard Diane and then the little one running toward them,
> >because she bent down and touched  her dog's head and said something like,
> >"No, no, sweetie, this is a working dog, we don't pet dogs when they're
> >working."
> >
> >
> >
> >The child was disappointed, of course and ran back to her mother.  Diane
>was
> >just about there anyway, and I guess she had heard her coming because she
> >turned right to her and explained it to her, about how you can't pet them
> >when the harness is on and to teach her children to always ask.
> >
> >
> >
> >She wasn't unkind about it, I didn't think, but Diane . Well, I can't
>repeat
> >it all, but she went away grumbling, "What?  You can't even pet the
>bleeping
> >dog?  Who the bleep does she think she is anyway?"
> >
> >
> >
> >I couldn't believe my ears!  I didn't want her to see me, to know that I'd
> >heard her, so I ducked down an aisle.  It bothered me, you know?  I didn't
> >know how to deal with it.  I thought I should say something.  I mean, I
> >wanted to slap her mouth for one thing, and what kind of attitude is that
> >anyway?  We're all human, aren't we?
> >
> >
> >
> >I said to myself, "Just let it go, it's none of your business."  When I got
> >up front with my cart though, there she was, Diane, I mean.  It was pretty
> >crowded and we were in different lines but next to each other.
> >
> >
> >
> >She said hello, and we chatted about the holidays.  She thanked me for the
> >bazaar and went on about the kids all liking their presents.  The little
>one
> >was skipping up and down the aisle.  She said she particularly liked the
> >doll pillow and blanket, couldn't be separated from them.
> >
> >
> >
> >So I say, "I'll have to tell Susan - she'll be tickled."  Then, I mentioned
> >that I had just seen her earlier.
> >
> >
> >
> >I should have stopped right there, but for some reason I looked around just
> >then, and there they were, headed out - her husband pushing the cart and
> >Susan and the dog following.
> >
> >
> >
> >"There she is," I said - it just came out so naturally, "Just going out the
> >door with the black guide dog."
> >
> >
> >
> >Well, Diane lost all of her color.  I still couldn't stop myself, but I
> >thought she should know, and I think it was as tactful as it could have
> >been.  I said, "I want to pet him so badly, but you aren't supposed to, not
> >when they're wearing that harness."
> >
> >
> >
> >Diane has never mentioned it specifically, but she says things, especially
> >since her sister lost her sight.  They say it's genetic, but no one in
>there
> >family ever . Well, I guess you never know.
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
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>
>Brad Dunsé
>
>"Tell me, and I'll forget. Show me, and I'll
>remember. Involve me, and I'll learn." --Unknown
>
>http://www.braddunsemusic.com
>
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>
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Brad Dunsé

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But much revenue comes by the strength of the ox." --Proverbs

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