Pinocchio

When I was about eight, my father's mother,whom I called Meterke, took me to see the Disney movie Pinocchio. Having been released in 1940, the movie was already old news by the time I saw it in 1965, but I was thrilled to go see it. We went at matinee time, and I remember it was a rainy day and hardly any one was in the theater. I remember being frightened by the violent whale who swallowed Pinocchio and Geppetto. Some of Pinocchio's adventures were very stressful and scary to me. But there was one part I loved very much, apart from the cute Jiminy Cricket, and that was the appearance of the Blue Fairy. I so much wanted her to come to my house and pay me a visit. She was so beautiful, sparkling with stars and light. How did she get to be a fairy in the first place? Could I maybe become a fairy like her when I was older? To this day I have a predilection for the color powder blue, which I have come to associate with feelings of peace and happiness. It was a color I looked for. One of my favorite summer skirts when I was 13, was powder blue, I had a baby doll my grandmother made that was power blue with white polka dots, a favorite make-up kit. In my house, my blinds are powder blue, and so are our winter blankets. It seems naive, but to remember the Blue Fairy still adds an  element of pleasure and hope to what survived of my child's soul and dreams. When I was about 13, I finally got to see Peter Pan, and was introduced to the feisty Tinkerbell. That cartoon character sparked a deep liking in me for spunk and resourcefulness. I have several Tinkerbell icons around the house, and just like the Blue Fairy, thinking about her adds a touch of whimsy and hope, tucked away carefully in the corner of my childhood resilience and determination.