Under the tall
and spreading tree,
Birds and
squirrels drink their tea;
Each one takes a
dainty sip
From a tiny
acorn cup.
My
goodness, I haven't spared a thought for that verse since I learned around
1918. But at dinner tonight, all of a
sudden there it was, as fresh as the day I learned it.
That sums up being an ancient one - can
remember a poem from childhood days, but am darned if I can remember where I put
that package of toilet paper!
Our
neighbors' lilacs are out, in full sight and scent as I look down out of one of
my open bedroom windows. It looks so
beautiful and it smells so beautiful. It
reminds me of when my sister Betty and I were little girls and we would play
house with our dolls under the stand of lilacs that took up part of our back
yard. Their shelter made a perfect house
for two imaginative young ladies and their "babies."
Betty
and I came down with measles at the same time and Mama tucked us away in the
same bedroom, the better to keep us isolated and to keep us from being
lonely. Every day, she brought in fresh
lilacs for our room. The scent of lilacs
always makes me think of happy times with Betty.
Thinking
of the property at my childhood home in Baltimore puts me in mind of when my
father had someone come in to till the garden before a planting. The man did
not realize that he tore out a fresh peach tree sapling that my father had
planted. I was heartbroken, especially
when Papa said the young tree was done for.
It
was going to live if I had anything to say about it!
With
the sure fire belief of youth, I asked, "Can I have it, Papa?" He said, "Katharine, it is not going to
bloom. But if you want it, yes, you can
have it."
Well,
I replanted the sapling, carefully setting it straight and tapping down the
earth around it. My, how I fussed over
that sapling, checking it for bugs and watering it.
My belief was rewarded 100-fold – in time,
each growing season we had to pick off peaches while they were green or the
branches would have broken under the weight of those lush, heavy Bella Georgia
peaches.
Oh,
the memories that can be triggered by the sight and smell of lilacs.
Nite-nite, sleep tight, and don't let the
bedbugs bite! Love - Betty's sister
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