Once upon a time there lived a wee small girl with long golden hair. She lived in a small house atop a hill overlooking a large blue bay dotted forever with the white sails of small boats that bobbed upon the sparkling water. In the center of the bay was a small island, named after an angel. Indeed, it was called Angel Island. The little girl climbed each night onto a small stool that stood below her bedroom window. The window opened to the bay like a white glass-paned door. She would throw it open wide and gaze out on the boats and smile.
At night before sleeping in her small cozy bed her mother would come into her room and sit in a rocking chair beside the bed. She would open a book that lay in her lap and she would begin to read to the beautiful wee girl, whom she loved very much.
The girl would listen very intently until the story ended. Then her mother would tuck her in with her warm blanket and say a prayer with her and she would close her sleepy eyes and go to sleep. And so it went for years.
One night the mother read from a different book. This book told stories of other children who lived very far from the Angel Island and the blue bay where the white-sailed boats traveled so leisurely upon the familiar bright shining water just outside the little girl’s window. These children wore warm coats and woolen hats and mittens and heavy socks and shoes. They went to school before the sun rose, so dark were the winter days and, indeed, the sun was already setting as they returned each afternoon to their homes. The little girl listened, and wondered.
It was not long after when the little girl found all that was familiar in her life going into boxes, or being sold. What followed was a very very long and arduous journey to the other side of the world, the world where the children in heavy coats lived. The earth was so cold there that the rivers froze over and the children in this new place skated about as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do. They spoke an unfamiliar language, rather quaint, and slowly the young girl began to make sense of it and to speak it, even. Eventually she spoke it so well no one ever dreamed she was not one of them.
One thing these children shared with the little girl was Christmas. In this country, however, the little girl was amazed to suddenly see a man with a tall cap upon his head here and there about town. As he would appear people would shout out, “Sinterklaasje!”. He wore a long red cape and held a staff in his hand, and they seemed terribly excited about his appearance.
As Sinterklaasje traveled the streets his helpers tossed cookies and candies to the children who gathered to see him.
The little girl learned that in this new country where she now lived that children left their shoes out by the fire, stuffed with straw or carrots for Sinterklaasje’s horse as he made his promised visits. This was a very exciting time for the little girl and her new friends!
Years went by and at last the time came for the little girl to return to her beloved land beside the large blue bay of her earliest years and memories. She never forgot the country so far away where she learned so many new things. To this day there is a special place in her heart for all that became part of her. And the dream lives on.
Love and holiday blessings,
(Special kisses for Antonia.)
Posted on December 30th, 2008 by Kathryn
Filed under: People at Life