When this writer (Peggy Weyel) was 3 or 4 years old (about 1950) we went to visit my dad’s (Jesse C. James) aunt Florence and uncle Frank McCoy at Christmas time. Aunt Florence McCoy had a beautifully decorated 6 foot tree with real, live, burning candles on most of the branch ends. I remember bouncing up and down to make the candles really flicker. Then mom tapped my behind to tell me NO jumping. She showed me the lit candles and said that I could have caused a fire. I never jumped again, but the beautifully decorated tree with the lit candles fascinated me. And, I never saw another candle lit Christmas tree…to this day. Dad’s Recollection Begins Many years later (1990s) I asked dad […]
Daily Archives: December 7, 2019
2 posts
I can’t fly, but I can fly a Kite. slow and gentle through the breeze or fast and swift directly into a tree. I see the tail up in a branch What a short life had my new kite. No puedo volar, pero puedo volar un papalote. Lento y ligero en la brisa, raudo y veloz contra el árbol. Alcanzo a ver la cola en una rama. ¡Este papalote, no hadurado nada!