Some Dreams Just Never Come True


One rainy afternoon, a group of us senior citizens were discussing unfulfilled dreams of our youth.  Sue Ann, pushing 80, said “I always wanted to have one of those fluffy skirts ballerinas wear.”


“They’re called tutus,” someone offered.


“Yes, I wanted one in pink, but when I told my dad, he laughed and said it would look mighty funny at the one room school house I attended”


The Cora spoke up, “I can tell you something funnier than that.  I once saw a pair of red satin mules in a store window.”


“What are mules?” Abbie asked.


“Not the animal, but sort of classy bedroom slippers, only with high heels and no toe,” Cora answered.


“Not practical,” We all agreed.


“These had red feathers on them,” Cora whispered.


“My God!” bellowed Gracie.  “Talk about tickling and tripping you.”


“I wanted to feel rich for once in my life-like a stage star-a real lady and a lot more important than one of the camp fire girls,” Cora added.


Ruthie, who used to be a missionary, got an idea.  “We are old and tough, but not so ancient to fulfill our kid dreams.  Why don’t we all chip in and buy Sue Ann a tutu?  You could wear it around the kitchen and dance to the radio!”


When the laughter died down, Ruthie went on.  “I bet you there are a pair of red mules some place in New York in some fancy store.  We could use the internet to trace such a place.”


Abbie added, “We could glue feathers on them and take your picture wearing them like a star.”


“I’ll love it – love it,” Cora bubbled.


As one they turned to me and asked, “And what is your long unfilled wish?”


I didn’t want to say, but the heat was on.  “Once I went to a circus in a big town.  There was a man walking around with little chameleons for sale.”


Their looks were frosty, but I plunged on.  “They’re like lizards that can change the color of their skin, depending on their background.  The man had them on little chains so you could wear them.”


“Those things alive?” someone yelled.


“Yes and I wanted to wear one fastened to my jumper.”


Ruthie broke the stunned silence with a command voice.  “Enough of this dreary trip down memory lane, let’s forget it and have a nice game of rummy.  I’ll deal.”


Everybody but me quickly agreed.


Mary Elizabeth Mruzik

Pacific, Missouri