A Happy Birthday

Yesterday, on her 5th birthday, my friend rang my doorbell, gave me a basket of hand-picked flowers (saying, "Like always"), introduced me to one of her party guests and insisted we shake hands (as her mother and father have taught her to do), and invited me for a piece of birthday cake. Of course, I accepted

Along with her brother and sister were five other young guests, two adult guests, her cousin, and her parents. The cake (made locally and decorated with Hello Kitty) and ice cream were delicious, and the pinata a big hit, especially after her father beat it three times with a 9-iron. As her special treat, family friends took her, her siblings, and her mother for a ride in their reconditioned 1940s Oldsmobile woody convertible. I loved my small participation in my friend's party.

And I loved seeing the car, on whose blaring horn I traveled down in memory to my own childhood and my father's woody station wagon. Oh, how I loved that car and the family trips, even though I was often stuffed in the middle between older (and frequently warring) brothers. Trips to the river past the "gypsies" who wanted to steal us (so Daddy said); long hauls to Virginia and my mother's family; hilling and daling on Sundays; excursions to cut a Christmas tree; rushing Mother to the emergency room after she tried to do the running long-jump on the school playground -- so many images leapt to mind in such an unexpected way that I spent much of the evening lost in thought about childhood, cars, birthdays, and neighbors.

I thank my young friend for her kindness and friendship, and my parents for providing me with some of the same magic I witnessed yesterday.