The Red Velvet Dress
Christmas Memories 1 I stood in the "wings," the annex the ran parallel to the main auditorium of the the church. The rustling began to quieten as proud moms and dads took their seats and settled themselves in for the annual Christmas Concert. Lines had been carefully and sometimes painfully memorized, songs rehearsed, and now the moment, long anticipated, had finally come. My while leotards sagged and I pulled them up. I rubbed a toe on the back of my leg, giving a last polish to my shiny black shoes. My braids were tightly bound, ends neatly resplendent in red ribbons. But the crowning touch was the red velvet dress with the puffy sleeves and white collar, reserved especially for this occasion. The dress only came out at Christmas. I carefully ran my fingers down its soft folds. Around the neck the heart-shaped crystal pendant sparkled in the light—a diamond resting on a blood-red pillow. The first Christmas song was announced and the congregation rose at the urging of the ...