Ramblings from the Cove...
August 2006
By Lars Gren
We were having a morning walk when Elisabeth decided to head home a different way. Just as I was coming near the Magnolia fire house — which is manned only one day a week. I forget which day but if there is a fire in the town it’s best to have it on that day—a cute blonde headed girl was in the street sort of looking around. She might have been six or so and as I approached she looked at me and said in anticipation of a positive answer, “I’m looking for my friend Lila, have you seen her?” I had never seen this little girl or her friend. I replied, “There was no girl down the street where I came from but if I see Lila, I’ll let her know that you are looking for her.” “OK, she has a black and white dog with her.” “Alright.” As I headed off to the corner then towards Surf Road she called out, “My name is Annabelle.” “Alright Annabelle, if I see Lila I’ll tell her you're looking for her.” “Thanks,” She said as we parted.
For the rest of my walk I was hoping to see a little girl with a black and white dog so that I could have said, “Annabelle, your friend Lila is looking for you” but it was not to be. Just a little encounter but it made my eyes misty and gave me that melancholic sense as I thought of the days when youngsters would in innocence have a word with a stranger on the street. That was in the days when a door could be left open; children could walk alone to the school house or go to the bus stop alone and when it was not abnormal to greet a stranger in passing. In the distant past living in Norway or to be exact in the city of Kristiansand S. you could see a baby carriage outside the grocery store including the baby in it while the mother shopped. If the wee one fussed a passer by having empathy might rock the carriage a bit or make funny sounds or whatever to quiet the little one. A delivery man could leave the box on a doorstep expecting the absent owner to find it on his return. There are a few who may still say, “Yes, I remember those days,” but never are they to come again.
When we walk and meet people I out of habit from past days nod and give a greeting but by the response of surprise I gather that it would not be the normal think that they would do. Most I think would trot by as a horse with blinders on seeing but not seeing. They excel in keeping “eyes front” as in a military formation. Not so with Annabelle. Since that day I’ve not seen her even though I have walked the street where we met which is a bit off my usual routine but I am hopeful that we’ll meet and I can call out, “Annabelle did you find your friend Lila, with the black and white dog?”
Down deep I think that we all long to be as open as Annabelle but what is it that inhibits us?
God bless y'all,
Lars
