Scarlet Slippers Or

It was the evening when I sat in the upper balcony of NYC theatre watching "The Red Shoes" with Moira Shearer when I immediately fell in love with her memorable crimson slippers.

From that day on I have strived to always have one pair of scarlet slippers in my closet.

Several weeks ago when I was forced to choose which final possession to pack (my favorite Portmellion butter dish or a pair of incredibly gorgeous, but utterly impractical pair of red sequined slippers......

well, I will let you guess which made the trip.

And that leads me to ponder on needs and wants. Obviously, as I gaze across the table at the butter sitting on its paper wrapper, it would have been wiser to bring the butter dish. However, as I look out at the snow settling gently on the woods across from my window, and then I look down at the exotic sandals on my feet, I wonder if perhaps my need for beauty surpassed the need for practicality.

This is but one of he choices I realize I have made often in life, but surprisingly, not always for the same reason

Fifty odd years ago my love and I opted to marry without the conventional formality of an engagement and all that it entailed. Consequently, I never had an engagement ring, nor did I want one. Admittedly, it was an unorthodox choice, but one neither one of us ever regretted.

However, years later when the children were grown and life was simpler, I was asked if I would finally like the diamond ring I had relinquished years earlier. Knowing he would understand, as he always did, I requested a computer instead, and that, too, was a decision I have never regretted.

That was an unusual choice for me. More often I selected the impractical, such as the red slippers rather than the functional butter dish.

Today as I look down at the flimsy sequined sandals that give me so much pleasure, I do wonder if feeding the soul isn't as important and possibly more so than feeding the body.

The snow has come early this season, and I am mesmerized with its power as I gaze out the window. Today I am wearing scarlet shoes purchased in San Diego ten years ago, a truly happy period of our lives before the clouds rolled in. They are flimsy and not truly comfortable, yet I wear them every morning and rejoice in the warmth of their color.

Despite the fact that it is still November sparkling white drops glisten on the windowpane dancing as they dissipate. Because I no longer have to worry about having my driveway paved, I seem to enjoy it more. The view is almost identical to the one I recently left, yet there is a subtle difference. Today I watch the drifting flakes disappear quickly on a heated sidewalk, and gaze down on the scarlet slippers on my feet, and accept the fact that occasionally, it is a good thing to choose the want rather than the need.

The butter will endure in its paper wrapper, and happiness is fleeting.