“A single perfectly-browned latke
slid onto his plate…” I stop reading,
cannot go further, until I digest this.
A devout Catholic feeding a Vietnamese
teenager a latke she prepared for him
in the town of Gladness, Connecticut?
I am majestic and glorious. Those lovely evergreen candles add a nice Christmassy touch when people walk in the door. Yet, you spend all your time with that puny, insignificant tree in the other room. You ignore me and all my splendor…”
She is reduced to a label, a role, a service. But this series shows us what happens when a woman refuses to stay small. When she dares to write her own name back into the story. When survival becomes a kind of authorship.
Holiday traditions create feelings of nostalgia in all of us, young and old. Twinkling lights on a Christmas tree, the smell of baked goods floating through the air, and freshly-fallen powdery snow — all evoke the warm feeling of tradition, family, and love during the holiday season.
Finding the ornament would be quite a feather in my fedora, but where to locate it? That was for me to find out — to turn question marks in mysteries into exclamation points in solutions…
Hummus and salsa, chips and pitas, olives to cranberries, yams to sweetness — oh, what delight from such bounteous platters. Chimes of the hour with music to sound, singers, instrumentalists, all gather ’round…
I suppose waiting until Christmas Eve was not the best of ideas. But this is when people are the most desperate and least festive, trying to make the season jolly for their loved ones while feeling inadequate to do so. That makes it the best time to find a target.
“As quickly as they arrived, they were gone.
In this vicious assault just after dawn,
Our lost innocents, so wickedly killed,
Left us the voids that could never be filled.”
It seems as if Mother instinctively knew when the decorative Poinsettias would arrive at the local flower market. Off she’d go with me in tow in search of the perfect Poinsettias to adorn our home.