Boxes

I have always made the best of each situation. It can be done. There is always the sky. It does not matter what is going on around you the sky is there for a great escape. From the sky there is the sun to give us warm days, adding wind to a warm sunny day just adds extra surprise. Even the rainy, stormy days escaping to notice the feel of the air can take away much pain. When I realized that my heart was so broken that I could not find happiness from the air around me is when I knew it was within me to discover the easy way back. Simple and free are the best gifts God gave us. Then there is snow, beautiful white snow. The air feels a certain way on a cold and snowy day. I have always been someone that could find something to make me feel better in the worst of times. Being a child may have made it easier to find a happy place.
I have mentioned walking home from school for lunch before. This is something I did even when the snow was up to my knees. Kindergarten is somewhat of a blur to me, but there are parts that I remember vividly. The teacher was old; she played an old organ to us sometimes. She reminded me of Granny of the Beverly Hillbillies. While we were up north I attended the school closest to Morley Street; where we lived before the fat banker came. The school name was Pageant. It had to be really close for me to walk to school at five years old. I had white boots with fake fur around the top. The boots I remember well because they were a treasure in a box given to us by some charity organization. Just like the ice skates the boots were one of my favorite memories of digging in those boxes that appeared at our house.
The boxes appearing made up for the fact that Santa did not come one year that I remember. The next door neighbor informed that Santa had brought her toys on Christmas Eve that year. I was so smart that at five she was wrong and I was right. Santa must have come on Christmas Night; I wasn’t sure, I must have forgotten was what I convinced myself into believing. Christmas Night I was sure that was when I would get my toys. On Christmas Night he didn’t bring anything, I was sure it was my fault. It was true if you are bad Santa will not come.
It was still freezing cold the day the box came with a pair of ice-skates in it. I grabbed ice-skates from the box like they had been placed under a Christmas tree by Santa. I had never had ice-skates. Making sure they fit was not important to me or Mama. That may have been why they wobbled so on my feet. Could have been why I hit the ground so fast. I had never skated and I was too young to realize that falling was something that would happen when I chose a frozen mud puddle just outside the house to skate for the first time. Somehow I made it down the steps onto the puddle without falling.

Once on the frozen mud puddle my feet went every which way. I hit on my knees and elbows skinning myself on every spot that the hard frozen puddle touched me. I still remember how bad that hurt. I was freezing cold, because getting a coat was not an issue as I had a new pair of ice-skates. The cold the sting of the cuts and the pain of the lick I took was awful. Getting back into the house was even worse. The trip down the stairs was a much happier trip. Climbing the three or four steps was much harder without the thrill of getting to skate. Then the pain added to the realization that skating on a mud puddle was not such a great idea after all.