This Day
This Day
The doll was still, but peace and happiness radiated from her face. She was only paper, a paper-mâché doll, 10 inches high on her wooden pedestal, holding a bundle...or child...with her left arm, the right open and propelling her forward as she contemplated stepping off the block she was glued to, into the room where she'd lived these many years.
She was Korean, artist-made, but certainly American now after 20 years of bringing calm to that room. She wasn't alone of course, never alone. There were pictures, plants, other living things, and more tiny crawling creatures than she was ready to shelter, but happily none of them feasted on paper.
Her gift was observation.
The plants brought respiration into the room, the computer hummed sound, the pens--and sometimes a pencil--scratched on paper; the four wooden birds kept watch and the photographs--4 generations of babies, boys and girls, women and men, none of them old yet, all held like the doll, motionless and quiet, observing each day as it unfolded, offering peace and memory to the woman, the live woman, the always-in-a-hurry woman, the woman at the desk who was old, who loved them all, and, like the doll, was grateful for the day, the new day, this day, every day.
Absolutely lovely! Thank you, Kathy.
ReplyDeleteA family treasure, Kathy, so well written. John
ReplyDeleteSilent presence. The most precious gift one can give.
ReplyDeleteAll of Jeong Ae’s paper sculptures radiate beauty. Jeong Ae stayed in Minnesota for a long time but moved back to South Korea before COVID. She sold her sculptures in order to fly back and forth between South Korea and the United States.
ReplyDeleteI didn't remember the name of the artist--thank you for reminding me!
DeleteYou continue to impress me with your wisdom, insight, and your ability to share it in words. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Kathy. Just ... thank you!
ReplyDelete