FROM ROOSEVELT by Linda Schuster
It began as a birthday party craft activity. Sarah’s first-grade classmates painted ceramic star and mitten ornaments in our kitchen. A lively variety of color combinations and designs were demonstrated. Sealed with a clear glittered glaze, each unique piece sparkled. Once they had dried I tied them individually with thin, golden ribbons for hanging. The simple projects turned out quite well.
I had originally purchased 20 snowflake ornaments for the kids to decorate. It was fortunate my oldest daughter, Rachel, and I attempted the task a week or so before the party. They looked easy enough. The snowflake itself was a miniature version of one of those lacy doilies Grandma used to crochet.
Yet even maneuvering the tiniest brush was a challenge. It was hard to cover in between the intricate labyrinth without slopping paint into unwarranted places. The dusky mauve I was using for the background found its way onto the sides of my snowflake. Then while repainting the flake some of the white got onto the purple. I touched up the background. Oh, no! How did I manage to get more purple onto the white, AGAIN?
During this process I realized that I would literally turn to dust before I perfected the crystalline figure. Good thing no two snowflakes are alike. But if I was chilling to the enterprise I could not expect small children to endure. Sure they’re cute, but these kids are not workshop elves. Where was the fun?
The change in plans meant additional trips to, well, all of the craft stores I could think of before discovering the quaint, five-pointed shapes. Happy to have found them, I thanked my lucky stars, paid and whispered into the bag, "Boy, are we going to make stars out of you!" as I left the store. And that’s exactly what we did.
About two days later Rachel recalled the snowflakes. She had actually enjoyed herself that day and asked to paint another one. Red flags of hesitation went up in my mind.
"Are you sure?" I asked. "Those flakes were not easy. Remember, we had to keep fixing the colors," I warned. I was exhausted from the weekend and did not wish to deal with ultra-frustrated children.
"I know. I don’t care. I want to do another one. Can I please?" she charmed. Imagine that. The contest suited her. Besides, she was so quiet when she painted.
No sooner was her plan underway when the younger kids entered the kitchen. Oh, fine, now I would have to stop what I was doing to sit down with them. This was the craft idea that would go on and on.
"I’d better take the leftovers back to the store as soon as possible or we will be crying over snowflakes for weeks," I thought.
Naturally they wanted to paint snowflakes. I was surprised at how sweetly Rachel assumed the role of teacher and helped them set up. She gave useful directions in a gracious manner. How crafty of her. I stayed out of the way, smiling.
They all came up with great designs. I ooh’d and ahh’d passing by as I organized the house around them. Even my husband created an original flake. He came up with the novel idea of blocking off the circle pinwheel-style. Each section is a different color and bears the name of a family member in a contrasting hue. It’s absolutely stunning.
We can’t seem to stop. Every other day someone asks to "do a snowflake." There is a blizzard forecasted in my kitchen. I’m pleased with the result; the flurry is a bright and glistening display. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!
Linda Schuster is a freelance writer living in Roosevelt, who has no choice but to go with the flow.