The Vase

December 20, 2010 by 34 Comments

I must have been nine years old.My parents hired a babysitter. For the first time ever, my sitter was Theresa, our teenage neighbor, instead of Grace, the plump and kindly 60-something-year-old woman who grew African Violets by her kitchen window and watched soap operas every afternoon.Theresa might even play with me! My mind was wild with possibilities, but I ended up deciding to play “M*A*S*H.” If I could make a tent, Theresa could be a nurse or doctor and we could pretend to take care of injured soldiers. [Read more...]

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