Monday’s Child is fair of face
Tuesday’s Child is full of grace
Wednesday’s Child is full of woe
Thursday’s Child has far to go
Friday’s Child is loving and giving
Saturday’s Child has to work hard for a living
But the Child that’s born on the Sabbath is fair and blithe and happy and gay
I have known this old rhyme for many years. Not sure where or why I learned or how it has managed to stick in my head. As you might guess from the title, I was born on a Friday. I hope that I am loving and giving. You never know how someone sees you, unless they actually tell you. This past summer as I and three friends were on our way to an outdoor concert, a young guy stopped us and asked us if we had heard of a local band. He had some CDs and asked if we’d like one. One of my friend’s grabbed the CD from his hand, said “thanks” and kept walking. I stopped and asked him how much and he said whatever I felt like giving. I had three ones on my pocket and handed them to him and then hurried to catch up with the others. My best friend had turned to see me give him money; and she was shaking her head, and said, “You have the softest heart of anyone I know.”
I had no idea she thought that of me. We’ve been friends for 39 years.
I don’t know if it’s a good thing, feeling things so deeply. Losing the person I loved most in the world almost completely took the heart out of me.
I am Friday’s Child. What Child are you?
My Mother was born in 1924. She didn’t share many memories of her life before me. My Grandmother filed for a divorce from my Grandfather in 1929, after which she remarried. I believe her second husband was the reason my Mom found it either too difficult or too painful to share childhood memories. Here is one she did talk to me about….
It was the start of a new school year in a new house for Mom. I’m not sure of her age, but I believe it to be under 10 yrs of age, so it was no later than 1934. In 1934 her new school was a one-room schoolhouse. She was nervous and excited to be attending a new school. For her first day, Grandma had made a very special lunch. Sandwich, milk, an apple and homemade cookies, all carefully packed in a graham cracker box, with extra to share. All morning, the little girl in the strange school looked forward to her special lunch that had been packed with love and care. Lunchtime came and when she opened her lunch, instead of all of her homemade treats, the box was filled with graham crackers. She was so disappointed, she could barely keep from crying.
Mom retold this story with an amusing slant but I can’t help but see that little girl, so disappointed and slightly lost. My Mom has been gone for nine years now and I think of her often. I look back on what she shared with me of her childhood and wish they had been happier.
Ahhh, a new form of social media to express myself. Completely anonymous. Icosahedron you ask? In geometry, it is a is a regular polyhedronwith 20 identical equilateral triangular faces, 30 edges and 12 vertices. We show so many faces to the world and who is to say which is the real one. They are all real and no one person in our life can know them all. Our family and friends may know several. Our lovers, a different side or two. But no one person can really know another in a 360 degree, global fashion. Impossible. I come here to be anonymous and express myself without any preconceived expectations from any one set of eyes. Here I plan to bare it all. I write, therefore I am. I don’t live an exciting life and don’t know if anyone will be listening.