When I was in fifth grade, I was a new-comer, rather shy and withdrawn, and didn't know the routine at my public school. Fifth and sixth grades were in the same room; it was a rural school in a small town. People knew each other, but of course, I didn't know anyone there except our neighbors who lived on the same dirt road that we did. We knew them just a few months, as we moved there in April, so very long ago, from 'the city' to a farming area.
I remember with embarrassment, it could have been the first day of school, or that week, that I began to eat my lunch when it was time for recess. I thought it was lunch time. As I nibbled at my sandwich, a sixth-grade boy passed by my desk and said, "It's not lunch time." Pretending I knew all about it, I said, "I know." I took one more little bite of my sandwich and put it back in my lunch box or bag, and put it back in the drawer under my seat. So nonchalantly, I thought. I could have crawled under my desk or hid in the cloak room, I was so embarrassed.
Dimock was a very small town, and we were allowed to walk from the school to the library near the crossroads on certain days. As I try to remember now, it must have been a distance of perhaps a quarter of a mile, perhaps less.
It was such a wonderful place to be in, that library! I have always loved books, and couldn't get enough of them. Reading was a passion. At that particular time, I was quite interested in the Fairy Tales. The Brothers Grimm I remember so well. I liked almost all of the Fairy Tales that I came across. They fed my imagination!
Let me explain a bit about the library. To me, it was the greatest place that I could visit. In reality, it was one small room, with no apparent attic, and probably only one door, the single front door. The librarian was the third-and fourth-grade teacher. There were bookcases lining the walls except for perhaps two windows, and probably a few bookcases in the middle of the room. It was no bigger than a very small garage. It was a cute little 'house', much smaller than the other houses on that street. It was a very small room but it was extremely important to me. It lives in my memory and takes up a big area...
Around this time three years ago, I was thinking about fairies. They could do anything, you know. I began to imagine their coming out into the meadow at the edge of their woods, and having a lovely time, especially playing music and dancing.
Fairy Music
In the darkened linden wood
The fairies come to play;
They appear at deepest night --
And disappear by day.
Dressed in leaves and petals fresh,
Making music to enmesh
Gathering from all around,
All who listen to this sound.
Some have pipes between their lips,
Others softly do their flips
Jumping, running, to and fro --
Dancing, prancing as they go
Singing songs that they all know,
Soon their repertoire will grow;
Blowing trumpet flowers they grew
Makes soft, glad tunes so old, yet new.
Their melodies all known by man,
Yet no one knows when this began...
-- Allegra, October 9, 2008
I'll see you at the Corner Post...
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