Restoration of Antique Nativity
The historic church's Nativity Scene was brought out to be set up for its fiftieth Christmas, but the group was very worn-looking and needed repair and restoration. Most Certainly! It was clear that the group was much loved by the people and so I just loved it, too. Later that year came the easy opening to ask Father if I might restore the figures, to say thank you for the community support for me while healing from an injury. I had the interest and love and skills.
Find full photo gallery https://ellefagan.com/creche-restoration-2007
A Nativity Story
BACKGROUND: Around 2000, I came to live in Vernon Rockville, Connecticut, recuperating from injuries from an accident. Just when I thought my life and work would be downed, maybe permanently, new opportunities found me, like the task of restoring a beloved old collection of figures for the Creche, or manger scene, at a local church.
I might restore the figures, to say thank you for the community support for me while healing - especially since I had the interest and love and skills. Father White mentioned that the creche had been there when he arrived but that he was retiring and could not take up the project himself. But the pastor who succeeded him, Father Rick Ricard, took up the project happily.
BEGIN THE TASK: We planned, researched the specifics of tech needs for old, early fiberglass; shopped for the supplies and got to work. Five minutes on the job and , everyone on the village park shoppes area knew of the project ! It was clear that the Old Nativity Figures were important to them. I was thrilled with the interest and said so. "It wouldn't be Christmas without that Creche", one said, " I am 55, and they were here as far back as I can remember." I felt much better supported in the work ahead.
BLESSING: The Old Convent Garage was my studio and 'Step One', of course, was assessment of the details of the task. I took "Before" photos of the group of figures, for reference and comparison later, and smiled when this "odd" exposure effect presented to me at upload. The image of this Glowing Infant figure was inspiring, as I set to work.
THE TASK DELIVERS AN EXCITING SURPRISE ! : Following the norm for the work of restoring fourteen life-sized figures involved: Research into Provenance, technical needs and update research for best materials/methods/process.
Inspection revealed incised ID numbers and letters and a name at the foot of the pedestals. And internet search was a revelation: the figures were designed by Dick Wiken, a world-class sculptor with many fine achievements to his credit, and the man who designed the head for the famous WPA Doll. Big Story!
I took the revelations to the church. What a delightful moment, and happy hum among us, like on the "Antiques Roadshow" program many of us never miss. Further investigation resulted in official respect for the restoration. It would take longer to do than I could afford to gift. And I was paid.
MORE REVELATIONS: The Community must have truly loved that group! After more than 50 years, all 14 figures were there and intact ! When the word got around about the restoration, a few men of the parish found me and they were jubilant: there had been a special care group for the figures. Over time, the numbers of the group dwindled and faded, but remained. One of the now-mature "apprentices" , was thrilled to find me to celebrate this restoration of spirit as well as figures.
PROCESS: The very old paint was pale and chipped and flaked, efforts to repair it in the past were not lasting. Most of the figures showed pitting - a natural dehydration effect with old fiberglass "Blo-molds". Many had cracks and the delicate Infant Jesus figure had lost a thumb; a toe and one arm had large holes in two places. At every step, this project was dripping with symbolism.
The lovely features would shine again - effects, and details in costumes and trimmings meant a fine and fancy finish to it all. "Planning my play" fixed an issue with thinner fumes; I would do all the related tasks, then open the fumey stuff, work fast , and close it up, then finish for the day.
I began with the Angel - so she could bless the project and keep an eye on me while I worked. The effects I was able to obtain were very encouraging. The infant's injuries wanted more attention. I sang and prayed and worked with a feeling of privilege, continuing on to the Statues of Mary and Joseph; the Shepherds and Wise Men; the Lambs and the good Donkey. The faithful animals were sentinels as worked.
Dirt and flaking were removed, and surfaces smoothed. The putty/filler repaired the cracks and the parish sexton did some wood restorations to the wooden support for the donkey and found an area heater when the weather cooled, and extra lights, when the days shortened. Then the primer coat to seal and protect was followed by the new paints for each figure and that, in turn, sealed and shined with clear topcoat. Completed well. And all in homage to the Holy Family who changed the world.
DONE AND TIME TO COME TO THE STABLE: Time to set up the Nativity Figures had arrived, and the last sweep with the paintbrush on the rosy cheek of the Infant Jesus figure! The men of the parish set up the life-sized lighted wooden stable, nestled in beds and stacks of hay.
Once again, the Angel was called on first - and her figure attached over the door of the stable to hover in exultation.
Donkey, lambs, shepherds, Magi, and finally Mary and Joseph completed the scene of waiting for the Coming of the Savior. The Infant figure would not be placed till near Christmas Eve. A photo of the creche I restored appeared, at the Saint Bernard Church website Home page, front and center at the 2007 Christmas season. There was also a note about the Restoration and the invitation to the parish to join the annual event of caroling and placing the Infant in the creche on Dec.22, 2007 after the 5pm Vigil Mass. In December, it was already evening at that time of day, and so lunaria were lit and placed for their glow along the path from church to site of the creche - all followed and gathered round and began the carols.
Then, Father Rick Ricard, pastor, brought the Infant figure from the rectory to the site, and presented it to a little boy and a little girl, who, together, placed the Infant in the manger. I sang to the Infant represented by that figure, often, with it in my lap, while at the work the past months, and this time, I was joined by quite a chorus and lead by our priests.
They say it was chilly out, but not at the Creche that night!
I was glad we had chosen the super-weatherproof paints used on fiberglass yachts - it was clear and cold, but, even if it was freezing rain, the glow of the figures would win through for many years. In fact, it glows naturally with an nearly-spooky photo-realistic effect - if the air gets very cold the skin tones change hue, just as though they were live. And then when it warms, the color returns to normal.
I was enjoying the pageant, at the back of the crowd - when Father called me up to the front of the group to recognize me, personally, and the work involved - I used to enjoy hearing the word "gratified" when others were in my place, and now that word was mine to say and feel. The moment was the kind of treasure nothing can mar.
All was merry and bright! Caroling continued and then a cheer followed by the invitation from Father to join the reception at the rectory, which proceeded to the church hall for refreshments and more chat, to make a special evening marking the completion and beginning of special things!
NEW! Latest book about the famous Sculptor features these figure molds, including the famous WPA Doll's head, and leading architectural sculptures.
Dick Wiken, Milwaukee Architectural Sculptor
FULL PHOTO GALLERY OF THE PROJECT AT https://ellefagan.com/creche-restoration-2007
The Strawberry Top
True story - first published 2001
No matter how much we love the Winter Holidays with all the trimmings, there is the validity of Christmas 'stocking stuffers' - a refreshing escape from the "too-much-ness" of things. Stocking stuffers and similar "little-gift" observances renew the awareness that the true holiday spirit is a small and shining moment that connects people in light ! A funny little thing can be like that!
True story - first published 2001
No matter how much we love the Winter Holidays with all the trimmings, there is the validity of Christmas 'stocking stuffers' -
they are a refreshing escape from the "too-much-ness" of things.
Stocking stuffers and similar "little-gift" observances renew the awareness that the true holiday spirit is a small and shining moment that connects people in light !
A funny little thing can be like that!
Stocking Stuffers shopping 1975, I purchased a little wooden strawberry-shaped top.
Three inches high, in the shape of a strawberry, a simple green spinning stick protruding like a stem, it was painted bright red-pink, with green strawberry seeds dotted all over it.
I love classics and tradition at the holidays and I hoped that the top would charm my family as it did me!
The Strawberry Top cost all of seventy-five cents as part of a last-minute holiday closeout, at a friend's decorator shop Winter Holiday sale, and found its place atop one of our Christmas Stockings!
Our nice life was full of the joys of the Season,and with lots of brightly wrapped gifts under the tree, for our "very-good-all-year-long" son and daughter (7 and 5 at the time).
And on Christmas morning, after the thrill of the opening of gifts and glee and hugs all around, snacks and. church , our children were fascinated by the mirthful little top!
They loved their gifts, but the Strawberry top was the surprise, a charmer that won center stage for their attention! We had to be firm about putting it away with the other Christmas things. But a tradition had been born!
Each Christmas, ever after, the top was among the first of the trimmings to be brought out from storage and the ceremony with Father,children and Mother gathered and gleeful at the thought of spinning that tiny Strawberry Top, signaling the start of holiday celebrations - each year more a family tradition !
A wonderful top!
An amazing top!
A remarkable spinning strawberry top!
When our teething Brittany Spaniel pup, Apples, put a toothmark in it, we held our breath, at top-spinning time: would it still spin? A wooden top depends on a delicate balance. But it spun as merrily as ever! And with Apples' toothmark in it, we loved it all the more ! The marvelous top would spin and spin, and spin and spin - and spin for more than a full minute - and longer, sometimes ! My sci-tech husband was impressed with its aerodynamics! Each time, expressing a strong and merry life at the Winter Holidays! Its dynamic a family-as-one symbol...it's heart shape - OUR hearts as one.
More years passed and never without our "Strawberry Top Moment", but then: Our children were in their early teens, the summer their Father died suddenly, and soon, that first Christmas following without him - except for his spirit, with us, always ! Gramma joined the children and I for a trip away at Thanksgiving - it was too soon and too intense to make our at-home dinner without our master turkey carver! But the draw of our own home and its charms and devotion to the traditions and observances moved us to give Christmas a chance. We began bringing out the boxes of things and planning the days ahead.
The Strawberry top achieved a mighty stature that year - the children, so solemn , at my side ... no jumping and giggling but the three of is hushed for their beloved Father, who was not there.
Then came the quick and light and firm twirl to the now slightly-worn wooden stem, and off it went !
IMPERTUBABLY ,
merrily,
steadily,
kind of dramatically sharing its magic with us!
"I guess we're ok", I said, my words reflected in our children's faces - as that top spun and spun on the counter - downright plucky!
"The Strawberry Top still spins ! " , our triumphant cheer !
And "Sure enough", the challenge of painful loss only meant, that the delight returned with a power!
With worth! Triumph!
Even after the children grew up and "flew up" to fine life on their own, the Strawberry Top remained a focus for us at holiday visits !
By then it had become a true barometer, of a sort... life changes, but love is eternal !
Our grownup daughter made an emerald green velvet pouch for the strawberry top, with bright red velvet lining, and tiny clear crystal beads, like snowflakes, on the outside, and a satin cord drawstring to close the pouch and protect it snugly. Now, no matter where we did Christmas, our top could come along, and make the key moment with "we-three" together and loving one another for another wonderful year! A true bit of magic: when a strawberry top finds your family circle, it is special.
And then, around 2008 - Gone!
The top disappeared, somewhere along the path of holiday travels.
We searched "high and low", and over and over, whenever it seemed right.
But no Strawberry Top! It was gone. I told the children, and sadly we marked that it had been...
A wonderful top!
An amazing top!
A remarkable spinning strawberry top!
Finally, I prayed and the answer came: "As special as we thought it,
maybe someone needed the Strawberry Top more than we did!
And the angels who brought the little wooden top to us, in the first place, may have spirited it out to them!
Peace and closure and we go on - and Christmas was still a delight.
But the little miracle was not ready to give up.
In 2012, preparing for the upcoming holidays, I remembered our top and missed it, and glumly popped "strawberry top" in the search box at the top of my computer's browser - and life changed!
Strawberry tops !
Plural !
Dozens of them!
JUST like ours!
But more - orange tops, pear tops, apple tops, carrot tops and dancing all over the page before me in a color show - from a company called "Londji" in Catalonia-Spain - they make classic wooden toys - and I tried to buy one of the strawberry tops - but at the time, they did not ship to the United States.
Stunned and happy, but not available for purchase at the site, I could not let go, so close to home and I emailed them with my story , in happy tears, asking the price for one strawberry top.
They liked the story so much they published it with their things and sent me one strawberry top, refusing to take payment for it!
The day it arrived at the post office the snow was deep and still falling, but
I geared-up
and off I went - or should I say, I flew ?
And then friends from the neighborhood spotted me struggling
Theygave me a lift.
"Why so elated? It's just snowing.... " they they laughed, and he gave me a leg up into the car, a sturdy four-wheel-drive.
I told them the story and they joined my merry mood.
Soon we were at the Post Office and the tiny box was in hand and opened in the car to delight another threesome in the snow - thirty years later!
Thrilled and now back home, I made tea and just gazed at my restored Strawberry top!
YES!
It was the right size shape and style in every way! NO hurry to test it: clearly, it would not fail.
I was glad I was alone - and sent a prayer of a sort that its tiny spirit always be graced to make and share the "Mirth on Earth" that was its destiny, and gave it a spin ...
A wonderful top!
An amazing top!
A remarkable spinning strawberry top!
Jubilation as I shared the news with our children - like the Angels at the Birth of the tiny Infant who would light the world !
And today it is already basking in the glow - this year's spint done and done and inviting more whenever we like. Yes! The Strawberry Top still spins almost 50 years later!
May the strawberry top send some of its magic to you yours - and may your holidays merrily spin, and spin, also, and always.... happy holiday! ..............elle
update: Tops are Pop again ... https://foreverspin.com/cart
And "Londji" in Catalonia-Spain for the wooden colorful traditional tops that spin for ages !
Christmas Wedding
Recently, both our children chose wedding days at Christmas to honor their late Father and myself. And so I thought they might like this "part one" of THE story of how we met and married. It was all so grand to us, and a gift of empowering love is their birthright! But that's another story. More will come.
After the ceremoney at St.Anthony Fairfield CT - at Frederick's Reception also in Fairfield, CT 12-17-66
December 17th 1966 - years of longing, and work and learning and more work and finding the moment of love forever born and winning through to this day!
At least for our children, long ago grown and living distantly with fine work and loves of their own I will share this "part one" of THE story of how we met and married. It was all so grand to us, and a gift of empowering love is their birthright!
But that's another story. More will come.
Our Christmas wedding turned out to be the Army's idea, and a lovely one! We were a 'love at first sight" pair - the happy result of long dreams and preparation and long prayed-for. We'd dated for nearly two years and we found it easy to talk about everything: there were no impediments to a bright future together. As often happens, once engaged, the planned date of 1969 , worked perfectly at first - his end of service sync-ed with my graduation from college - yes! But "Plan A" had to be dropped due to illness and financial setbacks to some of the top players in our lives - not a worry! The wedding date was accelerated to December 17th, 1966 at Christmas leave. Even better! This meant we could be together as Commissioned Officer and Officer's wife and I could help Red Cross. Of course, we were in a time of changes for us - some of which were not of our making and not of our desiring. But overall, such things were not a major obstacle. We were fine and families and legalities were pleased with us - happy.
I look back and think, "Gosh, we were brave!" We all had fine schools and fine studies and yet we were young, untried, new at adult life in any form, and that day, soon all off to war, and war is death! I remember the intense joy at our love and anguish for his survival in VietNam - competing for my emotions, love won that day.
We grew up on John Wayne patriotism and were sickened and undermined by the unpopularity of this war. But, just for now, even death had only limited powers in the face of our love! We knew we'd come "Shining through" and we did. War presented opportunities to serve one another AND our country and community and family, too.
In addition to the war to threaten this time of love's commitments, Mother and Dad were dealing with health and money issues , but they were the best, and so, cooking up a wedding helped everything !
This wedding project development was doing profoundly well at doing good in all ways.
In Fairfield, all brides were in heaven ! If you grew up there, for a golden time you owned the town! A blessed girlhood was paying off with a very happy start into adulthood! Wedding social and fashion and mores abounded! l Rules - there were rules and one could experience lots of desireable extras if one bothered to seek and follow them.
Young marriage is not really recommended, but we were were fine for it and it worked and lasted happily and successfully. There was plenty of excitement to whittle the few pounds off for a very classy look for the pictures! Happy cheat! Money, reception, gifts, engraved invitations, flowers, and the people we loved! Wardrobe? My beloved "Nanna" a friend of the family was a designer and we had serious fun with it and the shop keepers in the NYC garment district treated us like visiting royalty one afternoon, shopping for the wedding gown fabrics.
We made a nice picture in our wedding things - My double-brocaded satin and faux white mink Christmas wedding gown and his elegant USACE Officers Uniform: oh yes! It was going to be nice.
The day: Everyone had gone on to the church but the bride hung back for the classic "moment" on the threshold of her Father's house and stepping out over it to adulthood and new life, with a prayer for continued love for God and Man - especially one man! Her Man! The noise of war tried to crowd out the sweetness of the day and I recall ,saying silently to the heavens, " OHHHH NO YOU DON"T - not this day! This day is not yours - it is our day."
Snapped out of my reverie by a horn blast from my "carriage" , they promised to be going on to the church without me, if I did not come along as Dad did, to escort to me to Godfather Uncle Bill's long white car, laughing that I'd miss my own wedding! "Here comes the Bride!" , they called, laughing merrily, then turned solemn, as we approached the Church. The lovely vigil snowfall I'd hoped for had created the pretty scene and cleared, and now it was the cool and crisp but sunny day! Everything with the sparkling white coverlet and me afraid to own up to my own delight in it.
As we entered, it was clear that the arrangements were being carried out really well: work was well done: all was ready and lovely, especially the hearts! There for me was the church I helped fundraise for, festooned with flowers and ribbons all along my path; and the people filled the pews. There was my bridal party on ahead of me: maid of honor/cousin Betty; a sister of the groom, Mary; a best friend, my sister junior bridesmaid in her first gown, Lorraine, and my boss' six-year-old, our flower girl little Sandy.
Waiting at the altar the groomsmen were a handome show, in the classic line of duty: groom's brother the Best man, John Francis, in Naval Uniform, who almost took over the wedding when his Navy ship was delayed in docking and he had to make a wild dash racing down the aisle,to take his place on time; next, in Morning coat, my brother, Rick, on his way to a green beret then red; then Denny, a fellow officer from the groom's OCS ; and for my kid sister, my groom's kid brother Terry ! Some guys! I can be proud of them all to this day, thank goodness!
My Father, almost ashen with solemnity, escorted me down the aisle and passed my hand to my soulmate's keeping, so handsome in his newly-commissioned USACE officer's uniform - lucky me !
Our priest at the service was a personal friend to my father-in-law, who'd studied for the priesthood himself, early on, then turned to accounting and law and many babies. The vows: It was time. And we were ready and we were fine. The event itself seemed to go too quickly, after all that preparation!
But with rings and a kiss and a blessing and a song, and a full church giving a cheer, we were one!
The Reception at THE place for it that year was dizzy, with two hundred in attendance, but went very well, and soon we were at the Bridal Suite at the Hotel Americana in New York for the wedding night, and plane to Bermuda in the morning! We were just so happy to be "US" , we enjoyed the beauties of the "eye- lahnd" and our time alone so lovely! And when the Blizzard of '66 gave us an entire extra week at the Airline's expense - oh yes - grand fun to be stranded on an island with one's one true love! What better start - thank you, saints and angels!
Even a blizzard will clear after a week, but homecoming would now be on New Years Eve and more fun, and then off to Fort Knox a few days later. But that's another story.
My wish for my newlywed children ? Quote from a top pop film at the time: "Gidget" - her Grandmother in the movie points to the family motto: "Don't say that Love has been a disappointment to you ~ Don't you be a disappointment to Love ! "
...easy, once you get the idea
e.
Restoration of Antique Nativity - FDR/WPA/FAP
The historic church's Nativity Scene was brought out to be set up for its fiftieth Christmas, but the group was very worn-looking and needed repair and restoration. Most Certainly! It was clear that the group was much loved by the people and so I just loved it, too. Later that year came the easy opening to ask Father if I might restore the figures, to say thank you for the community support for me while healing from an injury. I had the interest and love and skills.
Find full photo gallery https://ellefagan.com/creche-restoration-2007
A Nativity Story
BACKGROUND: Around 2000, I came to live in Vernon Rockville, Connecticut, recuperating from injuries from an accident. Just when I thought my life and work would be downed, maybe permanently, new opportunities found me, like the task of restoring a beloved old collection of figures for the Creche, or manger scene, at a local church.
I might restore the figures, to say thank you for the community support for me while healing - especially since I had the interest and love and skills. Father White mentioned that the creche had been there when he arrived but that he was retiring and could not take up the project himself. But the pastor who succeeded him, Father Rick Ricard, took up the project happily.
BEGIN THE TASK: We planned, researched the specifics of tech needs for old, early fiberglass; shopped for the supplies and got to work. Five minutes on the job and , everyone on the village park shoppes area knew of the project ! It was clear that the Old Nativity Figures were important to them. I was thrilled with the interest and said so. "It wouldn't be Christmas without that Creche", one said, " I am 55, and they were here as far back as I can remember." I felt much better supported in the work ahead.
BLESSING: The Old Convent Garage was my studio and 'Step One', of course, was assessment of the details of the task. I took "Before" photos of the group of figures, for reference and comparison later, and smiled when this "odd" exposure effect presented to me at upload. The image of this Glowing Infant figure was inspiring, as I set to work.
THE TASK DELIVERS AN EXCITING SURPRISE ! : Following the norm for the work of restoring fourteen life-sized figures involved: Research into Provenance, technical needs and update research for best materials/methods/process.
Inspection revealed incised ID numbers and letters and a name at the foot of the pedestals. And internet search was a revelation: the figures were designed by Dick Wiken, a world-class sculptor with many fine achievements to his credit, and the man who designed the head for the famous WPA Doll. Big Story!
I took the revelations to the church. What a delightful moment, and happy hum among us, like on the "Antiques Roadshow" program many of us never miss. Further investigation resulted in official respect for the restoration. It would take longer to do than I could afford to gift. And I was paid.
MORE REVELATIONS: The Community must have truly loved that group! After more than 50 years, all 14 figures were there and intact ! When the word got around about the restoration, a few men of the parish found me and they were jubilant: there had been a special care group for the figures. Over time, the numbers of the group dwindled and faded, but remained. One of the now-mature "apprentices" , was thrilled to find me to celebrate this restoration of spirit as well as figures.
PROCESS: The very old paint was pale and chipped and flaked, efforts to repair it in the past were not lasting. Most of the figures showed pitting - a natural dehydration effect with old fiberglass "Blo-molds". Many had cracks and the delicate Infant Jesus figure had lost a thumb; a toe and one arm had large holes in two places. At every step, this project was dripping with symbolism.
The lovely features would shine again - effects, and details in costumes and trimmings meant a fine and fancy finish to it all. "Planning my play" fixed an issue with thinner fumes; I would do all the related tasks, then open the fumey stuff, work fast , and close it up, then finish for the day.
I began with the Angel - so she could bless the project and keep an eye on me while I worked. The effects I was able to obtain were very encouraging. The infant's injuries wanted more attention. I sang and prayed and worked with a feeling of privilege, continuing on to the Statues of Mary and Joseph; the Shepherds and Wise Men; the Lambs and the good Donkey. The faithful animals were sentinels as worked.
Dirt and flaking were removed, and surfaces smoothed. The putty/filler repaired the cracks and the parish sexton did some wood restorations to the wooden support for the donkey and found an area heater when the weather cooled, and extra lights, when the days shortened. Then the primer coat to seal and protect was followed by the new paints for each figure and that, in turn, sealed and shined with clear topcoat. Completed well. And all in homage to the Holy Family who changed the world.
DONE AND TIME TO COME TO THE STABLE: Time to set up the Nativity Figures had arrived, and the last sweep with the paintbrush on the rosy cheek of the Infant Jesus figure! The men of the parish set up the life-sized lighted wooden stable, nestled in beds and stacks of hay.
Once again, the Angel was called on first - and her figure attached over the door of the stable to hover in exultation.
Donkey, lambs, shepherds, Magi, and finally Mary and Joseph completed the scene of waiting for the Coming of the Savior. The Infant figure would not be placed till near Christmas Eve. A photo of the creche I restored appeared, at the Saint Bernard Church website Home page, front and center at the 2007 Christmas season. There was also a note about the Restoration and the invitation to the parish to join the annual event of caroling and placing the Infant in the creche on Dec.22, 2007 after the 5pm Vigil Mass. In December, it was already evening at that time of day, and so lunaria were lit and placed for their glow along the path from church to site of the creche - all followed and gathered round and began the carols.
Then, Father Rick Ricard, pastor, brought the Infant figure from the rectory to the site, and presented it to a little boy and a little girl, who, together, placed the Infant in the manger. I sang to the Infant represented by that figure, often, with it in my lap, while at the work the past months, and this time, I was joined by quite a chorus and lead by our priests.
They say it was chilly out, but not at the Creche that night!
I was glad we had chosen the super-weatherproof paints used on fiberglass yachts - it was clear and cold, but, even if it was freezing rain, the glow of the figures would win through for many years. In fact, it glows naturally with an nearly-spooky photo-realistic effect - if the air gets very cold the skin tones change hue, just as though they were live. And then when it warms, the color returns to normal.
I was enjoying the pageant, at the back of the crowd - when Father called me up to the front of the group to recognize me, personally, and the work involved - I used to enjoy hearing the word "gratified" when others were in my place, and now that word was mine to say and feel. The moment was the kind of treasure nothing can mar.
All was merry and bright! Caroling continued and then a cheer followed by the invitation from Father to join the reception at the rectory, which proceeded to the church hall for refreshments and more chat, to make a special evening marking the completion and beginning of special things!
NEW! Latest book about the famous Sculptor features these figure molds, including the famous WPA Doll's head, and leading architectural sculptures.
Dick Wiken, Milwaukee Architectural Sculptor
FULL PHOTO GALLERY OF THE PROJECT AT https://ellefagan.com/creche-restoration-2007
Krustiki - story and recipe
The Krustiki-making at Holidays! The heavenly sweet wafer crisps! The image on this page is of the irons used to make them - passed to me from my Mother, from her Mother, and one day to my daughter. It's not just a treat - it's a life thing and for the love.
The Krustiki-making at Holidays! The image is of the irons passed to me from my Mother, from her Polish-American Mother, and one day to my daughter. It's not just a treat - it's a statement of life and love.
As with many of the world's favorites, this treat is called by several names, & more than one country claims it for its own. In America today, we call them "Rosettes", and I also like the literal translation of krustiki, "little crusts" or cookies.
People refer to the collection of several other Polish cookies by the name, as well, including one that is also called Angel’s wings or one called Christmas babies. Photos follow here. Light, sweet, easy to make, although, our family favorite requires the “irons”, heated and dipped into batter and fastfried, and sugar-dusted, like those in the photo at left, often passed down through the generations.
Whatever the name, they are special!
The story through the years:
I ~ Krustiki ~ 1956 In childhood, I loved school - both the ones at Greenfield Hill and beloved Saint Anthony's, which was not just school, but generations after it was founded to help Polish-Americans learn perfect English and "be good Americans", the Saint Anthony’s Polish-American experience was a fine opportunity to learn and pass on my Mother's cultural favorites, as well.
At Holidays , especially, I spent many happy hours, with the older women, learning and sharing the rituals, like the making of the delicate "Krustiki", meaning "Little Crusts". Today, proudly, the stars,flowers & rounds are still made privately, in very special groups.
The krustiki irons, passed on through generations of women, are brought out from wrappings, cleaned, attached to their handles, and set into pans of hot oil to heat. When all is ready, the hot iron forms are dipped in batter and oil till crisp - then cooled and dusted with confectioners sugar, and the result is exciting! Crispy, yet tender light and melt-in-the-mouth sweet and yet not too fattening. Oh yes! they were, and still are, a delight! Such fun and then the irons carefully cleaned , oiled and wrapped and put away for the next time. A worthy afternoon for a young girl - Strong, nice, kind, and perpetuating.
The mommies' approval and interest was so good for feelings of worth in a child. They cared, and so I cared. I felt there was symbolism in making the krustiki : Women, so delicate and lacy and yet strong as iron - easier to understand, while making krustiki! We are batter in the hands of God, by whatever name you call Source of Life!
Star-shaped Krustiki - super light and a airy and yet a satisfying treat to eat!
II ~ Krustiki ~ 1976 No act is really simple, and even the simplest tasks inspire complex thought. With the Mothers and Aunties, I was learning the big lessons and was not afraid to think. Working side-by-side, it was all easy.
Years passed: growing up, I did fine in studies and truly blessed marriage and wonderful son and daughter! Glad I worked and prayed and played and cared - my dreams came true, with work and love - and Motherhood of my own, with gifts to share! Far away from 'roots' in every way, now it was not just pleasant, It was clarifying to do the krustiki-making on my own - it was so different and even more special. Connecting me in spirit, with the Mothers and Aunties of my childhood, there was an overflow of happy love in the continuum.
My Mother visited often and the visits often included the special preparation of Krustiki, and now,my own daughter alongside us and joyfully, by her own preference! Exult! To reward her interest... Not a word of teaching - "permissions" for her to enjoy and learn, as she pleased!
III ~ Krustiki ~ 1996 Time and time passing too swiftly! The family circle was growing up and well. Then My husband's sudden and early death Made the sweetness of empty-nesting not so easy. Mother remained true when all lights failed due to the recession threatening nearly everyone. The lessons from those days with the "mommies" were MUCH more than sweet recollections - but insurance policies that saved my soul when so severely stricken.
A reprise of girlhood Response work was considered a creative and classic choice to help grief recovery, and did, though it got important, became an adventure, including three kinds of rescue, and also American Red Cross, local and "away" work during Operation Desert Storm. And more - too much more. I finally fell to injury and exhaustion. Medical needs set up, I was relocated to the airy Connecticut Hills, near the lakes, rivers and waterfalls...a beautiful healing experience! It worked partly because ethnic arts and crafts thrive there, and I was delighted to be asked to join in the seasonal group cooking of a few thousand Krustiki, prepared by the Church as a fundraiser.
Many of the women were seniors to me. Most of them did not know me. Still, on the word of others, I was very kindly treated, and I reveled in the memories of similar times in girlhood. I laughed at the anachronism of my "adventure boots" and promised daintier footwear next time.We worked in teams of two and I served as assistant at first; My partner wielded the irons, I was the tipper, flipper, tapper and drainer. Another work team collected the completed crusts, sugaring, packaging and storing them till Bazaar time.
Now my senior partner, satisfied that I would not injure myself or anyone else, allowed me the lead task. I heated my iron, dipped it carefully into the batter, then into the hot oil and tended the twin krustiki diligently. When they looked right, I eased them off the irons. Pausing as the irons reheated, I glanced about and my partner who was staring at my work oddly. Why?
My partner, mature and coolheaded, must have expected poor results from me, disabled, because she stared wide-eyed at my "snappy" work, and then at me, and I quietly rejoiced in her respect, and the treasured secret smile for us both! Or maybe it was just that is cool to Always wear world-class adventure boots when making krustiki?
IV~ Krustiki ~ 2016 And sharing this and its power to heal minor woes for its goodness. It is still there - the glow of love created through such the "simple" tasks! These words are a duty, a tour de force! My Husband is gone long ago and fine and free again for a long time; but my Mother, 90 and in decline, no longer recognizes me and so, more than ever, these moments must be not be lost, I hope stories like this one bring a glow to all its readers. She passed away in December 2017 and yes…it is Christmas 2018 and the sorrow fading and rich and wonderful legacy remains!
These customs and creations make , in their making, life itself ! Gloria!
Praise for their maker and the Angels who seemed to bless us through it all!
The Rosette-shaped Krustiki, the best-known - they display so nicely- so light!
~ a popular krustiki recipe ~
Buy the Polish Rosette irons online in many forms and shapes - Amazon has them and many Polish wares stores online and off.
As with many of the world's favorites, this treat is called by several names,
& more than one country claims it for its own. In America today, we call them "Rosettes"
Or enjoy the literal translation, "little crusts". Whatever the name, they are special!
krustiki or 'rosette" irons
2 eggs, slightly beaten
2 teaspoons sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup milk
1 cup flour
1 tablespoon lemon extract ( vanilla or your preference is fine )
confectioner's sugar for dusting finished cookies
Add sugar to slightly beaten eggs, then add milk. Sift flour before measuring, then together with salt. Stir into first mixture and beat until smooth (about the consistency of heavy cream). Add flavoring. Fry as directed.
For extra nice Rosettes, allow batter to stand two hours covered in refrigerator before frying.
Caution: Do not do this with children until you have mastered it yourself.
And later, When there are children working with you, gently but firmly teach and stay aware that hot oil is HOT! *** If you wash the irons immediately before cooking time, put them in a warm oven for a minute to dry thoroughly, or water in the crevices may cause the oil to spit and burn. Watch out for steam during cooking, too, and plan to test for the best temperature for the oil, and time in the oil, for a nice golden crust.
...but, back to the fun! Our church ladies group does up tons of them for fundraisers at our Christmas Bazaar. They substitute the extract with some fine brandy or rum.....yum!......Theoretically, the alcohol evaporates during cooking, leaving only a special gentle flavor, so they are safe for alcohol-restricted diets, but check ...The preparation can be more fun with this recipe :-)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1UP0VKrfHdk This video is the closest to the Polish generations-old process that I could find. May make my own video soon. The video shows it is fun and simpler than you might imagine ! And worth the effort!
My commentary on this video:
Shows the double- headed irons, available online for purchase as "Rosette cookie irons"
shows a very old sifter that I do NOT support - nice fresh clean sifter is safer
shows the wonderful process JUST right, though, but
does not show the optional turning with a cooking fork, in the oil to cook the white inside of the cookie - doughiness is fatal - crisp but not burned is key.
So, when the cookie looks almost done on the irons, take the fork and gently poke the cookie off the iron and over into the oil - let the cookie float in the oil, just a moment, till the white inside has crisped and then use the fork to remove the cookie to drain.
Takes a bit of practice and wearing cooking gloves if you fear you may splash.
"JingleBells" - the crisis!
Controversy over the origin of the Famous Winter Holiday Song
By RUSS BYNUM, Associated Press Writer
SAVANNAH, Ga.
- Dashing in the sun, through oaks and Spanish moss. Sleigh riding's no fun, when there's no snow to cross. Could "Jingle Bells" really be a song of the South? It's not hard to see why balmy Savannah has a tough time selling the Christmas carol as a native creation. Or why the claim makes folks in Medford, Mass. _ hometown of the song's composer _ cry humbug.
This much is known:
Controversy over the origin of the Famous Winter Holiday Song
By RUSS BYNUM, Associated Press Writer
SAVANNAH, Ga.
- Dashing in the sun, through oaks and Spanish moss.
Sleigh riding's no fun, when there's no snow to cross.
Could "Jingle Bells" really be a song of the South?
It's not hard to see why balmy Savannah has a tough time selling the Christmas carol as a native creation.
Or why the claim makes folks in Medford, Massachusetts, hometown of the song's composer, cry "Humbug ! ".
This much is known: James Pierpont was the organist at Savannah's Unitarian Universalist Church in 1857 when he copyrighted the song, "One Horse Open Sleigh," a title later changed to "Jingle Bells." One of the most popular American Christmas songs, "Jingle Bells" made Pierpont a pre-Civil War one-hit wonder. But did he write it here as a piece of homesick, holiday nostalgia? Or did he compose it years before in Medford, not seeing the tune as a moneymaker until he drifted south? "No one really knows where he was when he wrote it - that's the rub" , said Constance Turner, Pierpont's great-granddaughter in Coronado, Calif. "Evidently, James was quite the free-spirit and he published some bad songs and one, at least, we know of that's a very good song."
Medford, just outside Boston, claimed the carol without challenge until 1969, when Milton Rahn, a Savannah Unitarian, announced he had linked the song's composer to Georgia. Rahn was listening to his daughter play "Jingle Bells" on the piano when he glanced at the sheet music and noticed the composer's name: J. Pierpont. He had earlier found letters John Pierpont Jr., the church's pastor from 1852 to 1858, had written home to Medford saying his brother, James, had come to Savannah as an organist and music teacher. Further research found the composer had married in Savannah in 1857 weeks before he copyrighted "Jingle Bells." "I saw this as something to help us get publicity for the church," Rahn said.
Pierpont, who lived from 1822 to 1893, was said to be a wanderer who ran away to sea at 14 and later went to California during the Gold Rush. During the Civil War, he joined a Confederate cavalry regiment in Savannah, bucking his family's staunch abolitionist views. Though Pierpont came from an aristocratic family - his nephew was the financier John Pierpont (J.P.) Morgan - he never made much money himself. His other songs included several touting the Confederate cause, with titles such as "We Conquer Or Die" and "Strike For The South." But none struck a chord like "Jingle Bells."
After Savannah erected a "Jingle Bells" marker across from the church in 1985, then-Mayor John Rousakis declared the tune a Savannah song. To folks in Medford, that made Rousakis and Rahn a pair of grinches out to steal their Christmas history. A series of not-so-jolly exchanges followed. "In the words of Shakespeare, it is our intention to keep our `honor from corruption' ", Medford Mayor Michael McGlynn wrote in a 1989 letter to Rousakis. "We unequivocally state that `Jingle Bells' was composed ... in the Town of Medford during the year 1850!" Rousakis fired back with an equally strong, unyielding letter. "James L. Pierpont is still here with us," Rousakis wrote, noting the composer's Savannah burial. "I am sure (Pierpont) will join us in spirit when we finally and formally proclaim Savannah, Georgia, as the birthplace of `Jingle Bells.'"
According to Medford, Pierpont was inspired by the winter sleigh races down snow-filled Salem Street in Medford and wrote the song at the Simpson Tavern, a boarding house with the only piano in town. Ace Collins, author of the 2001 book "Stories Behind the Best-Loved Songs of Christmas," says he found more proof of Medford being the rightful birthplace while researching his chapter on "Jingle Bells." Collins said he found a New England newspaper from the early 1840s that mentioned "One Horse Open Sleigh" debuting in Medford at a Thanksgiving church service. The song proved so popular, he said, Pierpont gave a repeat performance at Christmas. When it comes to which city deserves bragging rights, Collins gets diplomatic. Pierpont may have written his song in Medford, he says, but Savannah made him realize its universal appeal. "Savannah was the key," Collins said. "If it can play in Savannah, where snow was a novelty, it can play anywhere."
On the Net:
Unitarian Universalist Church of Savannah Georgia probable site of debut of "Jingle Bells"
Medford Massachusetts birthplace of author of "Jingle Bells"
Songwriters Hall of Fame ~ have fun finding the story behind other favorite songs, Holiday and "otherwise".
Oscar the Mouse
True family winter story - first published in 2004
Both of our two childhood homes and neighborhoods were classic: this one, in 1959, was part of my Mother's inheritance from her Father. In happy and prosperous times, she and my Father remodeled it completely, and he carved her name in a heart on the foundation. Respectable property with vegetable garden, iconic local flowers and fruit trees, and , on the fence Mother and neighbor Julia Mills grew concord grapes and there was jam-making every summer! There were huge maples and oak with a swing always tied to its branches, and evergreens to tantalize us with promise of Christmas, all year long!
True family winter story - first published in 2004
Both of our two childhood homes and neighborhoods were classic: this one, in 1959, was part of my Mother's inheritance from her Father. In happy and prosperous times, she and my Father remodeled it completely, and he carved her name in a heart on the foundation. Respectable property with vegetable garden, iconic local flowers and fruit trees, and , on the fence Mother and neighbor Julia Mills grew concord grapes and there was jam-making every summer ! There were huge maples and oak with a swing always tied to its branches, and evergreens to tantalize us with promise of Christmas, all year long !
That year, however, we had a problem: construction of new homes, begun that summer, just across the street, was going quietly and beautifully and our real estate value expected to improve from the neighborhood upgrade. If only the clearing of the sunny, grassy field hadn't created many homeless field mice, the project would have been flawless ! Father and Mother leading our Army, we fought a mighty war against the mouse invasion till winter ended it.
Our home calmed and then shifted into Winter Holiday preparations. Time enough to forget our " Battle of the River Street Field Mice". But now, WE were the "scurry-ers", with so much to do ! Cooking, at least, was again safe and hygienic, without the mice, and decorations and the Nativity Scene, shopping and choir and Christmas-caroling group and the sacred re-enactment of the birth of Jesus, and Midnight Mass, and Santa, restoring all the warm and generous feelings. After chasing things OUT, we could WELCOME once again !
Family time after dinner - an hour to relax with our favorite tv shows, till my Brother pointed to a spot behind us - at the very center of the living-room carpet, just behind the TV area, a mouse was sitting up and politely alert, as though he had been invited to join our TV circle !
He was "theater", in his cheery innocence; solitary, self-contained and thoughtfully sharing the television program, he kept to his spot, as though it truly was HIS spot. We simply stared in disbelief, and determined not to lose our Christmas Spirit, warily welcomed him to the circle and resumed our enjoyment of the Television Program with our unexpected and unlikely guest. Sometime during the show, he must have left, since he was gone when we next glanced in his direction.
Off and on, but ongoing, throughout that holiday, the mouse reappeared, and an imaginary, smiling, rapport developed among us, as he carefully took the same spot on the carpet, and seemed to fit right in. After the first few visits, my Brother named him "Oscar" - since he showed dignity and personhood - he was quite the "ham" - and after all the "mouse-in-the-house" troubles, this Christmas Mouse brought warmth and smiles and a secret among us, since most of our neighbors would not understand this "about-face" from Mouse Wars to rapport with Oscar !
Father, being always the Libra philosopher, captured our eyes and attention with that look that says, ' there is an important life lesson to be learned here.' Christmas Mouse stories are classic - "And now," he said, we have a "Christmas Mouse" story of our own.
Sometime thru that holiday, Oscar ended his visits, but more than forty years later, the memory is still a delight ! I hope you think so , too!
May we celebrate the special winter holiday renewal of the fundamental spirit of Hospitality throughout the Season, especially for unexpected and unusual Guests ! ~ elle
The Tablecloth - TrueYule loveStory
THE TABLECLOTH is a true winter holiday story - with a wonderful happy ending!
THE TABLECLOTH - true winter holiday story
The brand new pastor and his wife, arrived in early October at Suburban Brooklyn, New York, newly assigned to their first ministry, to re-open a church that was not in use, very run down and needing much work. Undaunted, they set a goal to have everything done in time to have their first service on Christmas Eve 1970.
They worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls, painting, and more. It was December 18 and they were ahead of schedule and just about finished. Then, on December 19, a terrible tempest - a driving rainstorm - hit the area and lasted for two days. On the 21st, the pastor's heart sank when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about 10 feet by 8 feet to fall off the front wall of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit, beginning about head high. The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor. Prepared to postpone the Christmas Eve service, he headed home.
On the way, he noticed that a local business was having a flea-market type sale for charity so he stopped in. One of the items was a beautiful, handmade, ivory colored, crocheted tablecloth with exquisite work, fine colors and a Cross embroidered right in the center. It was just the right size to cover up the hole in the front wall. He bought it and headed back to the church. By this time it had started to snow. An older woman was running from the opposite direction,trying to catch a bus. She missed it. The pastor invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus, 45 minutes later. She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor while he got a ladder, hangers, etc., to put up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry.
The pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and it covered up the entire problem area !
Then he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle. Her face was very pale. "Pastor," she asked, "where did you get that tablecloth?" The pastor explained. The woman asked him to check the lower right corner to see if the initials, "EBG" were crocheted into it there. They were. These were the initials of the woman, and she had made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria.
The woman was stunned as the pastor told how he had just gotten the Tablecloth. The woman explained that before the war, she and her husband were well-to-do people in Austria. When the Nazis came, she was forced to leave. Her husband was going to follow her the next week. She was captured, sent to prison and never saw her husband or her home again!
The pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth; but she made the pastor keep it for the church.
To thank her for her beautiful gift, the pastor insisted on driving her home, that was the least he could do. She lived on the other side of Staten Island and was only in Brooklyn for the day for a house-cleaning job. He then hurried back to prepare for the evening's duties.
What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve! The church was almost full. The music and the spirit were great! At the end of the service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door and many said that they would return. But one older man, whom the pastor recognized from the neighborhood, continued to sit in one of the pews and stare, and the pastor wondered why he wasn't leaving. The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on the front wall, because it was identical to one that his wife had made years ago, when they lived in Austria before the war and how could there be two tablecloths so much alike?
He told the pastor how the Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee for her safety, and he was supposed to follow her, but he was arrested and put in a prison. He never saw his wife or his home again all the 35 years in between.
The pastor asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little ride. They drove to Staten Island and to the same house where the pastor had taken the woman three days earlier. He helped the man climb the three flights of stairs to the woman's apartment, knocked on the door and witnessed the greatest Christmas reunion he could ever imagine!
A True Story - submitted by Pastor Rob Reid
Journey - The Shelter Quilt is Home.
UPDATE December 14, 2016
LIfelong arts and response work with red cross and others, my experience of Operation Hope Shelter for Homeless, in Fairfield Connecticut USA was unique.
Among other things, at the end of my involvement there, there was this quilt: made from "Bits and Pieces" of fabrics used to decorate the place, to alter clothing for residents needing to look good on job interviews etc... Lives whole again, once bits and pieces - as life will do- it's symbolism and being were so intense that only Monday, TWENTY years later, did it find it's home as a gift to the founders of the project. READ ON:
UPDATE Winter Holiday 2017 - to inspire the public to support their local shelters:
LIfelong arts and response work with red cross and others, my experience of Operation Hope Shelter for Homeless, in Fairfield Connecticut USA 1991-1996, was unique. Among other things, at the end of my involvement there, there was this quilt. And it's story.
The Quilt was made from "Bits and Pieces" - remnants of fabrics used to decorate the place or alter clothing for the temp shelter residents, for a nice appearance on job interviews etc. that would allow them to get on with their lives, self-directing and well.
The Shelter Quilt, to me, became a symbol of the shelter itself, which through its services, makes lives whole again - lives that were once in " bits and pieces" - as life will do.
The symbolism of the Shelter Quilt and its being were so intense that it found its home with the project founders no sooner than December 2016, TWENTY years after it was made. May it be a light and inspiration to all who see it. It's even soft and huggy.
For the story - READ ON:
Recovering by helping others, from sudden and early widowhood and then our children's empty nesting, I was Injured in an accident, right after my return from Redcross' ARCODS Assistant Station Manager service. It was so strange, after years of seeing to the emergencies of others, to BE the emergency, myself ! Several short term living arrangements happened while waiting for setup for my care needs. One day, I was the helper, the next day, the helped. Very odd. My background was lovely and my works fine and often above average, but things were barely in hand, after sudden and too-soon widowhood, when the recession hurt our money, so I rescued what I could of the money and paid it to our children to protect them up to their majority. Back home in Connecticut, felt I'd have no problem finding nice new work. But then the injury reduced me to poverty. But my background was very honored, and I proved it , and won a good care setup, and so, I saw that I could still help others, specially, though disabled.
I served at the shelter: scrubbed and disinfected, and lead singing and beauty and computer intimidation and art and resume classes and more. The Redcross work gave confidence and skills. Fine memory gave the LOVE and loving insights and powers.
The quilt : Our Shelter was in a wealthy area, so the clothing donations were smashing but often ill-fitting. So I made clothes or altered them for at least a dozen; made chintz type slipcovers for the shelter furniture and more.
This I did right through the "moments" at shelter - my own injuries' discomforts, plus the "moments" of the others: anguish, crisis, tears, occasional fights, thefts, and the one time I helped remove a very large knife from a heartbroken desperate young wife and mother with drug issues, and ideas to end it all.
There were also the social NIMBI things all shelters suffer; thankfully, these were offset by community and church support.
The Town Food Pantry Garden was across the street from the quite and green town shelter and we, the injured, had been hauling hose across the street daily in the hot weather , to keep it watered and growing. But then, a few yards away the firehouse next to the garden brought the fun fix: the men were cleaning their hoses and simply smiled and told us to get out of the way....ta dahhhh! They simply aimed the firehose over the fence and did so daily afterward. Best garden in town!
There were the gifts from the people in the community - food, music and invitations to join in the nice social events, and famiy fun, to make those at the shelter feel less like social lepers...so much good was done!
For some reason, when I did the sewing there, I saved all the fabric scraps from it, and, when my disability arrangements were made I moved on. One day, I found the scrap bag and thought , philosophically: wow! this would make "Quite a Quilt" - I cried and laughed as I pinned and sewed, and sometimes shook with fear, remembering - all alone in my lovely new bungalow.
"Bits and Pieces" I named it from the comments of one of the women at the time, referring to the famous old rock song of the same name. Seemed right. Then , to be sure to get on with it, I labelled some of the remnants on the quilt - this was from a woman's new work uniform, and that one from a man's slacks alteration...etc. .... and folded it up and packed it carefully AWAY. End. Resolved. Done. AWAY.
Every few years I'd pull it out and see how I was doing - I am so much more than fine! Busy happy and in the shows and regaining cash after all that injury before I am too old.
Thank you so much! I have donated cash and work to surpass my expense, using my artwork, to show my thanks in help to others.
And today, I am sending this on to the place where the fabrics were born - Faifield Connecticut's Operation Hope. They are still there, and helping over twenty years later!
It was presented to one of the founders as a wall-hanging from the loops I thought to include. I am so proud of its message. Few of us make the journey unscathed, but there was the feeling that , if I COULD make that quilt, it was one more sign: THE HOUSE WAS GOOD - and probably still is!
The communications with Operation Hope, after all these years, did not really hold, but the gift was arranged and the quilt shipped. I live on the other side of the state now. And there was reply, when all was done. In accepting the Quilt, last year, this closure was in my emails:
"Hi Elle:
We did receive your beautiful quilt and, as I mentioned, I am going to be presenting it to Reverend David Spollett, our founder, as a 30 year anniversary gift. We are so grateful for this gift. Please know it has sentimental value for us as well.
Sincerely, Carla"
My message - NEVER GIVE UP - there IS redemption and the "Great day in the morning!" Begin.
ESF At OH 1995
- elle
New Years Eve Times Square 1966
Freezing - just freezing - and we were delighted! Soon it would be 1966, temps around 30 with significant wind chill that year, made no impression on us!
We two were in love! We laughed, thrilled with any excuse to hug close. And so the weather was our friend, as we emerged from the parking garage. The weather only added to the excitement of the evening and the thrill of being in New York City's Times Square for New Years Eve!
Freezing - just freezing - and we were delighted! In a few hours, it would be 1966, temperatures around 30F, with significant wind chill that year, made no impression on us !
He and I were in love! We laughed, thrilled with any excuse to hug close. And so the weather was our friend, as we emerged from the parking garage. The weather only added to the excitement of the evening and the thrill of being at New Year's Eve Headquarters at Times Square in New York City !
We'd earned the break! Both of us had been intent on winning our gold stars all along. Now, his first college done, and with the promise that he'd be working to get rid of the killer chemical, Agent Orange in Viet Nam, his military duty began: Basic Training almost finished for him and on to special chemical training, then Officers Candidate School, after the holiday leave. And for me, younger, a student break-time from college, and job and happy to be hosting MY soldier at my parents home, most welcome by all. Christmas in Connecticut was the best and now Times Square in our best city evening attire. Yes!
So far, it had been a happy holiday in spite of the dangers ahead. Whatever it was, we knew it was our time, our game and we'd win thru anything on Earth or in Heaven. We really believed that ! I still feel that the right kind of love, one that feeds the life lights, and improves the drive for life, always makes the right kind of difference. There was nothing witheld in love and commitment and best integrity and now this glamorous night was ours!
Tearing along the pavement, the glow now warming us as we actualized our plan. There would be dinner, champagne and music and then back on the run, to the best spot for the view in Times Square, for the landing of the New Year's Ball !
1966 , we are here and we are ready! It may be war out there, but to us, it's about life !
We did not plan on the cold and so we talked more and walked a bit faster than the dreamy tourist-y stroll we had in mind! At one point he joked about our pace being brisk and we began to sing "We're off to see the Wizard" together, and even did the skipping dance for a few seconds, to dramatize our pace - then more laughter. Later in our marriage, "off to see the Wizard" became our code for any need for extra caution or push or special consultation - and would give us a winning smile in a difficult moment.
That night - it evolved as symbolic in many ways: Yes it was cold and dark - chilling to the bone if not dealt with - and again we felt fully confident that we'd win through because the dark and cold were broken by the lights of love, inspiration, action, friends and more ! And, though we were of the age to focus on perfect self-reliance, there were also our saints and angels.
We gazed intently at one another and kept up the brisk pace, with added powers and understanding. Exhilarating ! I was so glad to be there and with HIM and no one else! When you are in love, with a person, idea or life in general - challenge is an opportunity !
Navigating the density of the crowd, alone, was quite the thing to experience "for real" ! It was nothing like the like the television coverage of the night - nothing like the view from a warm sofa, as a home audience.
They say everyone should visit Times Square at New Years Eve once in their lifetime. Ohhhh, YES!
The air, the night, the sounds and the crowd! We immersed - we were one with the ocean of souls. All sorts of people in the full range of dress: casual , formal and costumes - the big googly glasses were fairly innovative that year, and so many having fun with the "Merch" of the evening! We only wanted US, but I think we bought something for souvenir.
(Will this story GET there? I am doing it to you it on purpose, gentle readers...waiting is maddening, no? )
It was still early and ducking in and out of the crowd, we danced along now, on with our evening.
En route to our restaurant, we encountered a man lying against a building wall, possibly not sober, probably a homeless man, judging by his soiled, inadequate clothing and unshaven looks. Dressed to the nines, my husband-to-be and myself were quite the contrast and paused, ready to help him to warmth and some cash. For a number of reasons, social consciousness had recently been brought to life and was growing. And so we stopped and assessed and thought what to do. This was the prosperous sixties - most out-of-towners never saw anyone so afflicted. We were sad and wanted to help, but a NYPD policeman approached to take over, and so we went on, reassured and at peace about it.
Dinner was grand ! Music, warm hearth, champagne and hot food, were twice as fine, after the chilly outdoor trek getting there! The place was chosen by him for their famous Prime Rib, his favorite. Of course, Sole Chemise en Blouse for the lady - the rule at that time.
Pleased. We relaxed and glowed and yet, we were ready to move on, when it was time, because it was nearing THAT time - the suspense was as delicious as the meal !
Nearing midnight December 31, 1965 !
Now truly on the quest, we dashed once more, toward the Square and "The Moment" - the noise was WONDERFUL! and then the countdown:
"Ten ! Nine ! Eight ! Seven ! Six ! Five ! Four ! Thuuureee ! ahhhh-Two ! OOOOOONE !!!! .... HAPPPPPY NEW YEAR !!!! "
Jubilation!
All these years later and such good years -
and widowed and recovered long ago, it remains a treasure to remember our own Times Square New Year Kiss!
A new year and at Times Square with the longed-for Handsome Prince at my side and I at his!
A new year and feeling empowered for it!
We kissed again! And many around us doing the same!
A new year, not without challenge but without real fear!
I don't even remember the trip home - we held on to that moment and cherished it along till it eventually faded on its own. That was one lifesaver we would never bite!
It was a grand way to begin a grand year and a few months later we were officially engaged and that Christmas, married! Feeling we'd done it right, so far, and happy to do more of the same forever together!
May it be so for you, now and always!
Happy New Year!
Elle