Only the thought that I'd have to admit to you that I hadn't written got me to the page last night.
You can see it in her face. The little girl dressed all in red with lovely long black braids and a bright white smile is the darling of her family. You don't wear a smile like that when you're eight years old unless you know you are special. It says below the photo that her name is Clarinda, a pretty name for a self-confident girl. I can see little Clarinda on her way to school decked out in her carefully ironed white blouse and navy and white plaid pleated uniform skirt. No room for the distraction of fashion when a child's education is at stake. Our little miss probably wears shiny buckle shoes instead of the more casual tennies, and I'd lay odds that her sock tops are even and never scootch down to puddle around her ankles like mine used to do. Reality comes as a bit of a shock to girls who have had such a carefree childhood as I imagine for our Miss Clarinda. It's not easy coming to the realization that not everyone cares to smooth the way for you forever. Maybe it's better to have a little heartache when you're young, to have to fight a bit to get what you desire, then reality won't be quite as much of a shock.
I need to buy another calendar with non-underwater pictures. Some days the sight of one drives me mad with longing. Besides, variety is good.
--Barbara
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