This morning when I was climbing Harlem Hill in Hamilton Heights, named after Alexander Hamilton, our first Secretary of the Treasury, because he lived there, I came upon a little old lady pushing a tiny grocery cart.
She was 5 feet tall, if she was that, in a yellow rain slicker though no rain was expected, and a bright red scarf tied tightly around her head.
She moved so slowly, I could have run up and down that hill forty times before she made it to the top yet like a turtle, making headway step by step.
“How are you?” I asked over my shoulder since we were the only ones out at that time.
“Veddy good,” she said, with a Slavic face ruddy and full. She made me think of my Polish grandmother who too had cheeks like apples never needing rouge.
“Nice day, isn’t it?”
“Yis…but vain veddy soon.”
“Really? I thought it would be sunny today.” She shook her head in firm disagreement.
“Well, have a good day.”
She waved me off with a dimpled smile.
Don’t you know not ten minutes later the skies opened? Not for very long, just long enough to make her right.
As I stood beneath a huge Maple tree trying to stay dry, I thought of her and wondered if she had yet made it up the hill.
SB
With those weather skills, she must have been a leprechaun, in disguise. Do they have Slavic leprechauns? Anyway, whatever, you should have grabbed her and demanded your three wishes.
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Shit Mick, you’re right, and do I have wishes.
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Really? I thought you’d achieved Zen serenity.
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I wish.
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I had a grandmother that came over from Poland as a teenager. She went through Ellis Island and we called her Bochi. My Bochi had a sixth sense, too. After a wedding shower, she told my mother that my father’s sister-in-law was pregnant … by only a few weeks! My aunt didn’t even know it yet herself!
Thanks for the mental picture of that cart being slowly pushed up the hill.
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I guess we all had someone like that. Love that her name was Bochi. It’s very moving to visit Ellis Island when you think of all the Bochis that came through there. Thanks for sharing Skinny 🙂
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It’s so nice to start the morning knowing still that the elderly always have something to teach us!
What a sweet, little old lady….I’ll bet her knees were giving her the message….
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I am always moved by the capacity to keep going. She had to be over 70…older even, and there she was putting her right foot in front of the other. Inspiring.
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Over 70 isn’t old my dear! I am 69 and exercising every day…Pilates, yoga and swimming….keep those hills coming!
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Then she was 80. I have no sense of age unless it’s really obvious. I’m sure you’re in great shape.
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Babushka! Now that’s a word I haven’t heard since my childhood! My mother had a sixth sense about stuff too. It was scary. I could never pull one over on her.
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It was the full thing I noticed, the kerchief tied under her chin. She was cute, like a little moving Hummel.
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Good description. A Hummel!
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in a babushka 🙂
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Aren’t all Hummels in babushkas?
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That’s a good question. Are they?
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What a simply wonderful piece, Susannah! A parable with Hans Christian Anderson whimsy, William Carlos Williams imagery, and a nod in passing to Hamiltonian New York. It’s even seasonally perfect—a literary hit outta the park in World Series month!
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Was thinking about you and here you are gleaming goodness. She made me feel hopeful the way she just carried on. I’m certain Mr. Hamilton, no stranger to strength, would have loved her too.
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Thanks for your kind words. This little piece is such an up, I’m having fun with it—with apologies to Mr. Williams:
The Red Babushka
So much depends
upon
A yellow slicker
glazed with rain
water
beside the tiny
grocery cart.
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Oh MJ, I love that. Really. Thank you 🙂
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Bet she went out prepared.
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It certainly looked that way. From now on I’m packing a babuska…so what if it’s Gucci 🙂
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Hey, as long as the scarf keeps you dry that’s all that really matters. However, styling in a Gucci shouldn’t have to be optional. 😀
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Very funny. She was very chic as well, the way it was perfectly knotted under her chin. Who knows, her’s could have been a Gucci too.
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Ah ha! 😀
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People can surprise the heck out of you.
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That’s true.
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She probably felt it in her bones. My mom is a human barometer. Slow and steady is a clear sign of rain. She sounds adorable!
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She was, like a moving miniature.
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