A Christmas Memory

and snowmen were everywhere. And the people! There were more people roaming around downtown than I’d see in a year between Cambridge and Kennett Square. All kinds of people, from women dressed in the very latest styles to the filthy ragged beggar who sat on the sidewalk and held out his hand, beseeching passersby for some coins. Both of these things freaked me out as a kid. There’s something intrinsically wrong with dressing as if you flew through a Versace show with a magnet, but even more horrifying, an unshaven, foul-smelling man pleading with a little kid for money. I’d never seen a clothes horse or a panhandler before in my sheltered life, and the memory of it

the countryside slowly gave way to the exurbs, then the suburbs, then the city. The buildings, the people, the fast pace of the city was a big thrill, and when we got off the bus downtown, I’d hold my mother’s gloved hand as we tripped along the crowded sidewalks full of shoppers, heading for the big Wanamaker’s and Lord and Taylor and a handful of other upscale stores. The streets were decorated with strings of lights and tinsel strung from light post to light post across the streets jammed with traffic. Store windows were filled with gold and silver glitz and glitter, red and green ribbons and greenery. Santas

STILL LIFE PET PORTRAITS LANDSCAPE/SCENES

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