Sunday, September 16, 2012

The Attic


Dream World of a Different Era

Golden hair with gentle waves, she looked like a Russian princess to me.  Not that we learned any great love for the czar and his family.  All that I heard was that G-d should keep him far from us.  But this Russian princess had her own chest of clothing and her own dressing table and chair with a perfect little brush that matched it all.  I spent hours playing with the attic doll.  My sister, on the other hand, found an exquisite wooden horse.  That is who she wanted every time we visited Uncle's big old attic in the big old green house.      Cereal and milk was the food of choice for the horse.  Bailah said that horses eat oats and this cereal had oats.  I don't know about the milk.  My princess had tea and cookies.  And so did I.    

How long did we spend in that attic?  Who knows?  Untethered by time we spent our summer afternoons with Uncle.  When the fall began to find us, life stirred, it hustled and bustled, and carried us to a New Year with a New Book of Life where good, healthy, safe lives were supposed to be inscribed therein for us all.