Friday Five and Christmas pottery

I

I wrote this post on wednesday.

When it goes online, I'm back from the eye clinic.

I still do not know how tired I will be, but one little click I want to do.

There is not to much to write once in the week. 

II

On Sunday we had wonderful blue skies and sunshine for some hours.

We took a walk thrue the forest and enjoyed to the reflections of the trees in the pond.

It seemed so clear and deep.

III

We live in a mountainous region.

In winter, when the sun is low, it does not seem often down to the way it illuminates only the uppermost tips of the treetops.

I love it to look up and see the light in the branches.

IV

I want to make again more creative things.

Have illustrated "The Story of the Littlest Angel" by Charles Tazewll in two versions.

The first is here. 
The second will show only after Christmas, because it should be a surprise for someone...

I do that deliberately not in a sweet-colorful style, but somewhat distorted by more to encourage the imagination than to make only lovely nostalgic pictures.

Earlier, in Nancy's "Random 5 Friday"  I had called my number five of the randoms the poetic part.

Had posted a poem, a song or a short story.

I want that now to do again, because I think it is important in difficult every day life take times for something poetic or pensive.

Ever: I should be more often write shortstoys, to learning better English.

V

The Christmas pottery

She grew up on the dark side of a divided country.

There was oonly little light and no beauty and colors.

Only sadness and the smoke from coal fires ...

In winter, when it was cold, she went into the forest to a small lake to ice skating.

She dreamed of being an ice princess in a pretty dress and with bows in her hair.

But it was the time of the early darkness and usually she was all alone.

At Christmas, there was little decoration and often not even candles in the shop.

You just went into the woods, took a few branches, made a wreath and tried to raise 4 candles. That was all.

Well, some people also stole equal a whole tree from the forest ...

Christmas baubles were carefully guarded and packed in a case for the next year.

They were inherited through generations because there were not new in the shops.

In the attic was the treasure chest...full of shiny stuff.

For some children, someone came on Christmas Eve with a bag of gifts.

They called him Christmas man.

But it was real only the neighbor in an old jacket glued with a beard made of cotton wool.

To her never came a Christma man.

And the parents said it was anyway only the neighbor in an old jacket glued with a beard made of cotton wool.

A Christmas man does not exist, they told her.

They were quick to put their all faith and all magic ...

In general, it was not a good place where they lived, neglected and without beauty. Christmas has always been the worst day and they often ran away.

In a film they saw colorful things and heard the Name Santa.

Santa - a wholly foreign word.

Another language that was.

She went out to look for Santa.

But she found only darkness and a silent quiet forest.

Which is not a bad thing, but Santa was not there.

Nevertheless she knew that somewhere he will be.

Later, when she earned money themselves, they departed from the place and led her own and good life.

She found happy holidays for herself, only Christmas was not among them.

In her memory was so much darkness ...

Your treasure chest with baubles she gave a friend.

He was divorced from his wife and she had kept all the baubles - what a disaster for him!

For her it was easy to give away the treasure chest...

Still later the divided country was united and then suddenly everything was bright and colorful. And all the shops full of wonderful goods.

She was amazed at all the excess.

But it bothered her too, because who would eat all these many delicious things, who took all this endless glittering stuff?

Then, in a small shop with clothes (which she had entered to buy warm socks) she saw the pottery in bright red and with the image of Santa!

In her mind an inner movie began, a little girl with a pretty dress and bows in her hair skated on a rink right.

There was music and light and many friends.

And if she was tired, she went home and drank cocoa as such a cup.

And she knew: there are Santa and he will come soon.

She bought the pottery, and every time she drinks from the cup of a cocoa, it is the little girl with the pretty dress and bows in her hair and she knows: Santa is living!

And he will come.

Merry Christmas to all my readers :-)

Shared with Willy Nilly Friday, Friday Photo Journal, The Rosegarden Malevik 
Lunch Break