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A Christmas Memory

tail display. The windows would be full of wonderful, moving things. Santa and his reindeer literally flying above a miniature village, where smoke poured from their cottage chimneys. In another window, the Sugar Plum Fairy danced with the Nutcracker above the Mouse King and the tiny automated ballet dancers. In another window, children slept beneath elaborate quilts, while a jolly Santa rose and descended from a chimney nearby and a dog scurried around the stockings hung by the mantel. In another window, a toy train traveled around and around a track, through a tiny town where a f lagman waved and his red lantern

haunts me still, even after all those years in Manhattan, where I would see far worse. I clung to my mother’s hand and pressed closer to her fur coat as we made our way down the street. She was an expert at city walking. Eyes straight ahead, brisk step, never making physical contact with another human being. She was the epitome of a classy lady to me. Everything I know about being a lady, I learned from my mother and my aunt. Not that I’ve used these skills all that much, but they’re good to have. Eventually, we’d reach Wanamaker’s and hit the big time in re-


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Tidewater Times December 2018  

Tidewater Times December 2018