The Red Coat

by Dolley Carlson

incessant reading aloud newspaper articles of interest to him alone,

the middle-aged male clerk’s “Welcome to Chandler’s” was stuffy, but nonetheless engaging, even though he sashayed directly towards the back room, straightening this and that along the way. “Someone will be with you shortly, madam.” Rita had heard her husband refer to men like this as “light in the loafers.”

“May your eyes see today what your heart needs to hold for tomorrow.”

Much to Cordelia’s surprise, the Bible had been quoted several times throughout the service, and she found the entire experience extraordinarily reverent and worshipful, if not regal.

The row upon row of white-clad First Communion boys and girls seemed to Cordelia a field of celestial flowers, heaven sent, heaven bound, unspoiled, radiant, one with God, their guileless childhood faith a beacon of hope and renewal.

How could she have possibly known “Room to Let” would open the door to love?

Replicating her mother’s mode brought Norah into Rita’s home. Order, predictability, and beauty—Rita held them and they held her.

His hosts also served a tossed green salad with slices of what looked and tasted like Palmolive soap, “Mmm, what’s this called?” Bob inquired. “Avocado. Isn’t it delicious?” his uncle gleefully answered.

family was now headed for one last look at the Nativity scene. After dark was when it seemed most real; maybe because so many Christmas carols sang of the holy and silent night. Ruth Ann thought the baby Jesus, “wrapped in swaddling clothes,” never looked warm enough and wondered if His outstretched, bare arms were reaching for a jacket or maybe a little blanket.

Rita and Bob had no way of knowing—as their young family ventured through the city, marveled at the holiday windows and lights, shopped for gifts, lunched at the Adams House, visited Santa, sang along with carolers, and adored the Prince of Peace at home on the Common—that a cherished, sustaining, never-to-be-forgotten, childhood memory was in the making. O holy night, the stars are brightly shining … and the soul felt its worth.