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Nov 27, 2004 22:48

The Day My Spirit...

I remember quite clearly the day, time stood still and the dust shimmered in the faint sun coming from I don't care where. She was standing in front of the front window that held our Christmas tree this year. It was such a gorgeous tree; she loved it so dearly and visited our house many times just to see it when she walked in the door and right before she left. I suppose she thought it the perfect way to begin and end a visit to a friend's house.
Somewhat hidden from view she looked down at something, I couldn't see what.
I called out her name, 'Anita,' I said.
She didn't move. It was two days before Christmas, two days before St. Nicholas would come and bring children all around the world wondrous gifts, and already the tree had been bombarded with frivolous packages. There were so many, I had thrice so far been overcome with excitement and giggled furiously. Oh, the color and curls of the decorative paper and ribbons and bows, it was like heaven had blown upon this tree and made it magic so as to unfold these wonders before our very eyes without telling us where they had come from. This went over in my head until I shook with reason and looked again at her.
'Anita please come with me,' I begged, for I was getting rather impatient. Suddenly her round child head whirled around to reveal her gleaming violet eyes and glowing black curls upon her fair face. She was very pretty, and that wasn't saying much because whilst the nearing of Christmas the relatives roll in for the holidays and pinch cheeks and cuddle noses and chat about children babies marriages and more relatives. Being so, the parents would spend special care in making sure the house looked best it could be and that their children always glowed with pride of the family and innocence. I however hated that part of the season; it meant more fussing about hair and clothes and how well your shoes shined. All the children hated being dressed up like one of their own dolls in their nurseries. Perhaps that is why grown ups give us dolls, I wondered, for I wonder a lot of the time about a lot of things, so that we get used to dressing up small children, just like our parents.
Whatever the matter is, Anita was naturally pretty and didn't need as much dolling up. I had not done too badly, however lightly freckled I was. Blue eyes and auburn hair that was true to my heritage and what I held upon my face, and I didn't mind it at all. Anita got up to me and with fire in her eyes that I knew only came during the holidays, she declared that, 'this is going to be the greatest Christmas yet.'
However many times she said this a year on the same day, the way she said it made me more cheerful and anxious every time, and today was no exception.
'Anita, I think so too. There’s no doubt in my mind that more love will spread through the town and more people be gladdened than they ever thought imagined this year,' I declared.
Magic came through this town, all the time, however it never quite made it to all the grown ups, but to all the children, yes. But, especially during Christmas, my, did it come. It came and filled your teacups and bathtubs and chimneys and hearts.
Once again, we gazed up at the Christmas tree and it towered the house, up through the roof, above the town and above the stars.
We closed our eyes only a moment, a blink, not even as quick as you could snap your fingers or clap your hands, and all around us was a forest, filled with Christmas trees! They were all decorated elegantly, even greater than the tree at my house. We went up to them and touched them, as soon as we did that stardust sprinkled off the top of the sparkle that was the star atop the tree. It came down and tickled our noses, similar to snow, but snow was much different. I loved the sensation, like you had wings! Wings to fly! Wings to soar and close your eyes and to spread your arms out and hug the wind. To hug the wind and taste the air from high above and drink the sweetness of moonlight that poured into the nursery every night. Closing her eyes every thought came true and she twirled and looked down, eyes still closed. Opening her eyes she saw what was happening and screamed in fright, immediately she fell to the soft snow and thought of it again and once again soared through the air. Anita was doing something similar, she was being tickled by the stardust, but she wasn't thinking of flight. She was in an amazon with gorgeous birds and animals; she closed her eyes and indulged in the image, blinked and did not see that it was real. She road on a wild mare and floated in the ocean with mermaids. Opening her eyes she saw all the beauty and did not hesitate. We were in our own worlds now. Meeting up again, we decided to go to the mountaintop where it had begun to snow. Anita racing on her mare and I cutting the sky, we reached the top and adorn the bare sky with stars and beautiful shades of pink lavender orange green. It was a sight to behold. We sat in awe of what we could do, and then we heard what seemed to be a voice from the sky.
'Bedtime, girls, it is nearly dark out!' are heads shook in astonishment and the nursery materialized before our eyes and my mother was staring at use with slight amusement.
'Anita dear, it's time for you to go home now, Moira will see you tomorrow,' my mother said.
She was so kind. There was so much understanding in her eyes and when you looked at her you knew that she could mend whatever needed mending. She made the room brighter, the house seem cleaner, and the world seem more kind.
'Alright mother, I’ll walk her to the front door,' I said gloomily, but I knew I couldn't wait until tomorrow when the sun would shine in the morning and Anita and I could play outside in the park.
Anita and I flew downstairs and gazed once again upon the regal tree that would lead us to a land so grand it was too grand to have a name.
'Tomorrow we'll go to more new places,' Anita said with spirit in her voice.
I looked at her and noticed that spirit was not only in her voice, but also all around her. She was covered with star dust, her spirit, it glowed around her, like she was wrapped in a cloud, and her eyes were no longer violet, but deep midnight blue, the color of the clear sky we had seen just moments earlier, and her hair of the stars that sprinkled it. Her statement had been made true tonight about this Christmas, and it was all because of her. I thought that night while trying to sleep, staring lazily into the fireplace that warmed the nursery and watching the sparks dance; it was her that brought the magic. Something about her has always hung in the air but I had never until now been able to reach it. As I gazed at the fire even further I saw figures dancing in it, they danced to music that came from nowhere, from the place too grand. That’s the only reason sleep came to me that night.
The next morning was different, I immediately knew why but my heart refused it to be true. I daren't say it now for you should not know yet. However, the sun wept and fled from our sight behind dark clouds that betrayed the sun and shed his tears through their glooming covering cloak. The snow did not welcome our feet and became hard and difficult to walk through. I rushed to my mother's room to ask her what had happened. She was not there. I called out for her and heard an answer from downstairs. Never had I leaped down the stairs as quickly as I did then. When I reached the living room I found Anita’s parents and my own talking in hushed and muffled voices that were cause by sorrow.
'Mr. Advenicus, where is Anita?'
The grown ups exchanged uncomfortable glances across the room. My knowledge had been confirmed but I was still hoping. My mother came over to me and knelt in front of me.
'My dear, Anita’s parents found out last night...' the words where fighting her and she struggled for a moment to find right ones to come out.
'Anita has been very ill, and she found out just last night. There was nothing anybody could do. She died this morning. Her parents found her in her room.'
I heard the words. No, I felt them. They didn't come from my mother, or my father, or Anita’s parents. They came to me, and I didn't want them, but they wouldn't listen to me. They cut into me, and I felt them cutting my body. I blinked and saw knives slashing my arms and cutting my hair. I had no defense over them, for they were truth.
There is no denying the truth, and it hurts. I blinked again and the knives were gone, and there was no more blood and fallen hair. I looked up at my mother as a tear sliced my cheek, in a cemetery I looked down at the box that held my kindred friend. We said a few prayers, then a few 'words', then a few hours later my black dress was already cleaned and hung. And I back in my nursery staring lifelessly into the dollhouse I had played with countless times with Anita. Then, sitting downstairs on the wooden floor near the Christmas tree that I had just a week ago praised with my lost friend.
I blinked my eyes, and like with Anita I was in a grand place. I was in a towering cathedral with detailed art and towering arches and light deluging in that made dust glory, which was what it could not. Like floating specks they flew on air. I looked around to find something I had no idea I was looking for. All I knew was that I had to look. My heart told me to, and Anita was in my heart.
I walked and stood before the alter, and as quickly as I had gotten there, Anita was standing next to me. I looked upon her like there was completely nothing wrong with her being there regardless of recent events. You see, her spirit and soul she had spread all over the town that you couldn't as much as turn the corner without seeing her in something.
I knew naturally that I would be able to see her here. I spoke to her like it was a gift to, because it was.
'You are full of simply predictable irregular unimaginable surprises. We know there coming yet we never see them. That is why it is entirely possible that you are standing next to me.'
She smiled sweetly, for she knew exactly what I meant and how I knew it.
'You know me too well,' she replied lovingly, 'you know I’d never leave you or this place we come to. Please don't weep, you can always find me here whenever you want. You’ll never have to cry again.'
I cried so hard with so much relief and hugged her tightly. She had taken away my sadness so simply like she and my mother had countless times.
I remember that day also, clearer than today and yesterday and tomorrow. The day my spirit soared.
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