Black Friday

It is not like I am a little girl standing next to the counter at Penney's waiting for Grandmother to get her change. I am not looking up at the series of wires between the ceiling yet above the heads of shoppers watching little canisters travel on wires to what I imagined was a big cash register in a safe place above the crowd.

It is not like I am shopping at Weaver's with a little girl in hand when I waited for my change from the vacuum system that store had that sucked up the little canisters. And the little girl wondering where the canister went, then taking her to the place so she could see but not being able to explain just how and why the system was built into the store.

It is not like I am going to an ATM and have that system suck up the canister either.

It is more like I am a shopper on black Friday and the only vacuuming of money will be the call of the bargains simply sucking it right out of my pocket, if I choose. I guess the sucking up has to do with how tight I make my own belt.

It is not an era of five cent thread
It is not an era of $13.84 onyx rings with a diamond chip
It is not the simple era of PONG
It is not the era of regifting like the tie that went from Benhard to Severt for many years along with the Christmas card, written in pencil and erased until the paper was worn.

It is an era of inner magic for those of us who choose to let the little child inside of us come out from its safe hiding place and just be awed by the imagination of store decorations, grown ups bustling with packages, and charming ornaments in which we can see our faces. It is a time to think about a little girl who loves pink and butterflies and look for butterflies in all forms and while looking hope to see a lady bug.

Aren't lady bugs and butterflies wishes like kisses and magic and marvels for young and old alike? I dare you to look into a glass ornament and smile and feel an elf ring a bell in your ear.

I wish you joy and five cent thread.

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