Shades of Summer, tastes of Childhood, Memories of Times Ago---tangy with citrus, sweet with clouds of sugar swirled into a tornado of flavors, seasoned with the times and places and people who share the simple, wonderful, cooling drink.
And today, my friend Maggie wrote of her youngest daughter's wish for a Lemonade Stand---staple of childhood entrepreneurs, small wage earners, eager young businesspeople in their first flush of independent commerce. Little ones try out their hands at preparing, at serving, at making change, at the polite exchanges which accompany small and great transactions, and then learn a bit more of their places in things. They pour a cup, set it out to the customer, take their coin in exchange, smile a Thank You.
And some things, too old for five or six, or even fifteen or sixteen---those things engender a wish to help and to do good and to make things better. Great things are sought and expected by a little child, fending off loss, dancing in the light with a spoon, a jug, some cups. Great things beyond her ken are accomplished, echoing past her imagination.
Today's post on Maggie's blog is a perfect example of her capture of emotions, of life, of things everyday and extraordinary. She writes with a scalpel-hand, cleaving away all the extraneous stone from the sculpture of her words, and what is left is shining, clean, perfect---standing smooth and tall as Michelangelo's marble.
Maggie is of the age to be my daughter, but she's who I'd like to be when I grow up.
Lemonade will never taste the same again.