In A Child's Eye

When I was a little girl, my sister, brother and I used to spend many of our weekends at our grandmother's house. It was the first place I knew the directions to and was very proud of this fact.

I can still remember my father dropping us off and kissing us goodbye. He was a divorced man with three young children. The weekend visits to Nana and Papa's always gave him the time off that a single man needed.

Nana used to greet us at the door, always with a smile on her face and a heart full of happiness. With her deep gray hair and her sparkling brown eyes, she had an aura of a higher wisdom and beauty. Such a grand woman but she was never unreachable. To hear the sounds of her grandchildren's voices (of which she had seven) ringing throughout the house, filled her heart with a consuming pleasure.

To us, those weekends became the ground on which we based our first steps into life. They gave us the love and grace from which we learned to grow and cherish our memories of summer days. Especially, the days spent at the Salem Willows.

The Willows, a place where the sun beat down upon us all turning our skin to bronze and our hair to golden brown. Always, there was the light, salty breeze that would drift up from the sea and tickle our backs, as we lay under the trees and listened to the grown-ups talk. 

Nana never went to the Willows without packing a variety of mouth-watering and delectable foods. With the aunts, uncles and cousins in tow, the picnic baskets were the first to be unloaded from the cars.

Finding a section of the park that would enable the whole family to partake in the luncheon festivities as one, we would then all swarm around the blankets covered in food and enjoy the scrumptious meals that had been prepared. After all the food had been consumed, a lite nap was in order for the older folks.

At this time, Papa would reach into his deep pockets and give each of the children a few quarters to spend as we wished. Off we would go to the arcades and candy stores on the boardwalk, safe with the knowledge that if we spent our money, we could always charm Papa into giving us more.

As the night came upon us and our sleepy heads drooped, Nana would gather the stuff together and bid farewell to the family, until the next time. Once back at her home, she would tuck us in to our beds and kiss us softly on our foreheads, guarantying a safe trip into sleep. Nothing could haunt our dreams. Nothing would dare disturb our slumber. Nana was nearby.

Goodnight!