So there's a young family of five who sit near us in church.
Over the last couple of years I've struck up a friendship with their three impossibly adorable -- and adorably well-behaved -- children.
It started with my admiration of the youngest of the two daughters. She is just the darlingest. There is something about her that clutches at my heart.
We'll call her MM. She whose smile would melt the polar ice cap, were she to have the opportunity to smile at it.
In addition to that lethal smile, MM's got a quirky boho style. Her nails -- fingers and toes -- are almost always painted and she wears the cutest little tiny earrings.
On most Sundays during the fifteen minutes or so between Sunday School and church, MM and I engage in a mini-hugfest and we talk.
Well, I talk; MM mostly listens and radiates.
She is ridiculously charming in her ability to be simultaneously enthusiastic and reserved.
Some time ago I asked MM when her next birthday was, and exactly how old she'd be.
Seven on March second, came the prompt answer.
Seven! Now there's a special birthday.
You probably don't remember but a few years ago when our granddaughter Melanie turned seven, I wrote about the blessing of seven.
In particular I talked about her cake in the shape of a seven, which is sort of a tradition in our family because that's what TG had when he turned seven.
During the waning days of the Eisenhower administration.
Anyway.
When Melly turned seven and I wrote about it, I mentioned the seven dance, performed often and to great effect by seven-year-old Scotty Ocean in the book An Ocean In Iowa.
By one of my favorite authors, Peter Hedges, who also wrote What's Eating Gilbert Grape, one of my favorite books.
And yes, you have successfully followed the cake crumbs to the cute pirate, who played Gilbert in the film.
Good for you. Treat yourself to an extra piece of cake, crumbs and all.
Lo and behold, Peter Hedges himself commented on that post about Melly's seventh birthday.
I emailed him to ask if it were really he who had done that, and Mr. Hedges could not have been more gracious, and confirmed it had indeed been he.
What say you to that?
So about a month ago, as MM's seventh birthday loomed, I asked what she'd like to receive in the way of a present. From me.
Here's approximately how it went:
ME: So tell me, what do you want for your birthday this year?
MM: {HUGE SMILE} {long pause}
ME: Well?
MM: A stuffed animal.
ME: Oh, that's easy. What kind? I mean, what species of animal?
MM: {long pause} A horse.
ME: A horse! What color?
MM: {immediately} White. {HUGE SMILE}
ME: Well you shall have a white horse.
MM: {EFFUSIVE HUG} {face-cracking smile}
I'm telling you, there is kryptonite in that kid's smile and those hugs are intense.
So anyway I started looking for white horses basically everywhere I went.
And I could not find one. Well, not one that both fit the description and was at the -- ahem -- ideal price point. If you get my drift.
There were plenty of black ones and brown ones available. Even horses of different colors than those. But none in pure unsullied white.
Last Friday I went to Toys "R" Us where I had not previously looked for a white horse, confident that the toy retailer would have not only one white horse, but a proper array from which to choose.
Wrong.
In the end my viable choices came down to either a dazzling all-white unicorn with satiny pink horn (only, I dislike unicorns no matter what hue their horn) or a purple horse with feet, muzzle, mane, tail, ear-insides, and satiny wings all in pristine white.
Yes: Wings. And yes: I chose the purple horse.
First: Purple is my favorite color except for black, which is really my favorite color.
Second: I have a thing about wings.
Having purchased the winged purple pony I promptly began mentally crafting an explanation for MM as to why I failed to come across with a white equine unit as promised.
Because I believe in keeping one's promises.
Well. I needn't have bothered with concocting an excuse.
When MM saw me yesterday morning she promptly administered one of the tightest hugs ever. I don't think she was even expecting a present.
But when she saw that purple horse peeking out of purple paper in a pink gift bag?
Suffice it to say that the sheer wattage of her smile, had it been aimed in the right direction, would have illuminated the deepest blackest cranny of the unlit side of the lunar landscape.
It was as precious as MM is irreplaceable.
Her mother later revealed that MM's room is primarily purple. Turns out that, like me, MM is actually a big fan of purple.
So did we get it right or did we get it right? Even if by accident?
It would seem as though we did. I believe that as I perused the shelves at Toys "R" Us, my angel -- complete with shiny white wings -- was looking out for me.
As per usual.
And that is all for now.
I wish you love.
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Happy Monday ~ Happy Week
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Friday, March 7, 2014 at 07:44AM 
