Vibrant Village ™

Baskets filled with flowers, small American flags and the words of excited radio announcers remind me of my small town and May memories.

Spring lingers a long time along the way north, usually reaching New England by the end of April when a few crocus and daffodils push aside the last of the ice crystals of melting snow and bloom.

In early May, by May Day, there are enough lovely flowers to fill a little basket to hang on Gramma’s door, ring the bell,  and hide before she answers.

By Memorial Day, the  gorgeous lavender lilacs with their fragrant scent are ready for Dad to pick  large bouquets to place on family graves. Each veteran’s grave has a new small American flag standing guard.

In the morning there is a solemn parade through our town.  Someone recites The Gettysburg Address:  “...those who gave their lives that this nation might live...and that government of the people, by the people, for the people shall not perish from the earth. ”

When I was thirteen, our family was away on a beach vacation.  It was September 1, 1939.  The cottage had no radio and my Dad had gone to the car to listen to the news.  He returned - his face ashen - telling us that Hitler had invaded Poland.  He knew  it meant war for America.

Dad had been in France as a doughboy soldier during World War I, just twenty-one years before.  My sister was named Patricia in honor of the ship that had brought him safely home in 1918.

On a bright cold Sunday morning in 1941, I had stayed home from church. I heard an excited radio announcer break in to shout Japan had bombed Pearl Harbor!  I had no idea where or what Pearl Harbor was.

During my  teen years,  we were never  certain that we would win the war.  My friends’ older brothers and sisters joined the military. My own life was little changed, continuing  with school and Girl Scout projects.

One summer we volunteered to pick apples in our valley’s big orchards.  German prisoners  picked apples  side by side with us, polite and quiet and hard working; perhaps grateful beyond  measure to be alive in America.