It was some kind of Catholic retreat day – Lent maybe – I don't remember. But my elder cousin Judy was required by the Mother Superior of Sienna High School to spend the day in total silence exercising discipline, pondering her religious beliefs, and performing good deeds for others.
I was only three years old and I called it “No talking Day.”
I had come to live with Judy and her parents, my mother's sister and her husband, when my own mother became ill and was consigned to a hospital for a few weeks.
Judy was 12 years older than I and I admired her for her luxurious dark hair and eyes, easy laughter and willingness to listen to the ramblings of a very little girl.
So it was most difficult for me to cope with this day of silence when she could not chat with me, laugh with me or play the piano for me.
So I busied myself playing quietly alone in the living room of my aunt's apartment.
In her silence, Judy motioned to my prize possession – a vinyl stick horse with a
white yarn mane and white painted features on its blue face.
She motioned again. Wordlessly I gave her my horse and she and it disappeared into her
bedroom.
About an hour later, she emerged with my pony, now wearing a pink satin bridle that she had
hand sewn just for him.
She held it out to me and smiled.
I smiled back and squealed with delight.
After what seemed like a very long time, my mother returned from the hospital and I moved back to our apartment with her and my dad.
In the years that passed, Judy married, moved away, got divorced and had a daughter who would later be killed in a nationally-reported plane crash.
Judy moved again. Proclaimed herself a lesbian and finally bought a house on the South Carolina swamps.
I moved too, got married and was widowed when I was still a young bride.
A lot of living went on the years after that No Talking Day.
I don't know what became of that stick horse.
But I have never forgotten that day.
Bio:
Pat Raia is a veteran journalist coving a range of tops from crime and politics to international business.
She resides in Florida.