Wednesday, December 22, 2010
My 1st pair of skates were from the Salvation Army store, a boy's pair of figure skates that dad found on his excursions to the second hand store. Mom painted them with white shoe polish so the end result was a silvery gray color. It didn't matter to me, all I wanted to do was skate.
That winter, it snowed so badly that school was canceled, a momentous event for us, as Michiganders are pretty prepared for almost any type of frosty weather. The walkway to the house, the driveway and the sidewalks were a glisten with bright sparkling ice.
Carefully, I mapped out a complete circle to "race", being sure to mark in my mind the slim spots that might cross my path.
Now was my chance, I skated the circle over and over again, once I even got ahead of ol' Hans, Gretel was beside me, we glanced at each other and smiled and then I was off again.
I skated all afternoon and when the sun finally began to wane, I was still madly racing around and around. It didn't matter that my toes were completely frozen or that my my mouth was dry and crackling. I had to win the race.
"Mommy", I cried, and she, who had been watching me from the window, suddenly appeared.
She wiped my tears, covered me with her big strong body and guided me into the warm house. "Tomorrow is another day! You can win the race tomorrow."