The last chapter ended with a description of the scrapbook with mother and daughter looking at it together. That will take more work as it is a visual post with captions. It will require a painting, and fewer words. Here I am jumping to the next “chapter” where Sophia remembers the little French shoes she owned when the family lived out West. She begins composing a story about a little French girl she met, or imagines meeting….
Mamma, Sophia and her little brother glided over the cobbles stones on the Woodstock Square. “Can we get some fresh blueberries from the Farmer’s Market?” Sophia asked. “After your karate lesson,” Mamma said.
A woman walked speedily past them towards an office building. Her high heels made a “clip clop” noise as she passed. “Are those the kind of shoes you want, Sophia?” Mamma teased, “fancy shoes that go clip clop like a horse? Ride a fine horse to Banburry Cross, Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes, she shall have music wherever she goes..” Mamma sang the nursery rhyme and both children laughed.
“When I was in England,” said Mamma, ” I bought a pair of black shoes that were low cut with sturdy wide heels. They lasted a long time. The woman I bought them from said she had a pair. ‘I can even walk over cobblestones in them and not feel a thing!” Mamma did her best British accent to imitate the woman at the shoe store in England.
“Didn’t I have little boots that were sturdy and were different colors? Miss Kristine said they were made in France– she knew because she was a nanny there, remember? And we got them at a little town like this, where Daddy was showing his paintings.”
“My goodness,” exclaimed Mamma. “You remember that, and you were only 2 1/2? Those boots you wore when we went to Portland and you were feeding the ducks? Yes, we got them in Pullman, Washington, where Daddy used to work. There were some cute shops there, and we got you the boots at a children’s consignment store. Daddy displayed some paintings there at another store when Pullman had their art walk. And what did you do during the art walk, but try on more shoes while I was hanging paintings.”
“Yes,” said Sophia, “you have a picture of me trying on shoes in the scrapbook. And I’m pretty sure I met the little French girl at the art walk.”
“Really,” said Mamma, “I don’t remember that part.”
“It was fun looking at scrapbooks with you yesterday, Mamma! It helped me remember a lot!”