Short story is possibly the best part of memory. Painting vignettes of family gatherings for children and grandchildren to see from the eyes that were there. Illumination of past reality from long ago brings joy or laughter, as well as toil and trouble, into the here and now. Remembering the brown knit stockings at the mantel on Christmas Eve; eyes wide in the morning when that flat emptiness was filled with nuts and an orange in the toe.
Intrigue and excitement with each present unwrapped and examined in early morning before mom and dad arrived to scoot us upstairs to get dressed.
The stories of our families, and traditions that passed out of our lives as we grew up and away, stay in hearts and minds, shared by oral tradition and love.
“There have been great societies that did not use the wheel,
but there have been no societies that did not tell stories.”
~ Ursula le Guin
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