A Pale Pink City

My Life in Fiction

Author: s00jinee (Page 18 of 36)

When I First Met You- JH

It was almost time for the meeting to start, and we had been rushing to make it into the Kingdom Hall before the song.

You had been a couple seconds ahead of us but your longer legs had carried you much farther to the door than me.

I remember being intrigued by your stature, the way your hair was styled and even the blue shirt you had paired with your brown tweed suit. The glasses were the perfect finishing touch and I wonder why you no longer have the wonderfully vintage frames (the story is you’ve lost it while swimming in a pond).

A wonderfully bright and toothy smile had greeted me and I had taken a liking to you immediately (although to be fair, I had thought you were much older than myself. Imagine my chagrin, then, to realize you were actually younger than me).

(And I recall thinking with AH that you reminded us of a cartoon character that helped endear you to us. Of course, which character I will never tell you but it still brings  a smile to me)

It was such a different experience, having the door held open for you as I was just new to the Chinese Congregation.

And it would take almost six months after that moment before we would start to interact regularly, before then you had been just one of the nondescript white brothers (albeit with the bluest of eyes, your saving grace I must admit).

An impeccable sense of humor, a zealous attitude towards the preaching work and space. I loved that you had space, a more conservative manner while dealing with sisters.

(Although this whole time I’ve been hearing rumors that you were racist-not that I’ve ever seen it displayed. Stories that I’m very skeptical of, as again I’ve never actually witnessed any racist behaviour. )

(And stories that you were a little crass and insensitive, again, nothing that I’ve experienced. Mostly thought you were funny due to the sarcasm but that might just be the Jersey in me.)

You were so supportive in getting my hours done, I honestly don’t know how I’d have managed my time if you hadn’t been there to support on the weekends before I started to commute to Patterson.

So in short I must say, you’ve influenced my life tremendously whether you are aware or not and for all the support and love that you’ve shown towards our Congregation, I am grateful.

In the four years that I’ve known you, you have matured into such a loving and mature brother and I look forward to seeing where your growth will lead you.

I love you more than I can express in words and you are a dear friend to me.

Happy 10th Full Time Service Anniversary! 🙂

 

L’Opera

The evening is cool but uncharacteristically warm for January and after only a dozen outfit changes, she settles for a blazer and a pair of slimming black pants.

The drive into the city is relatively uneventful and with trepidation, she heads towards the Lincoln Center with her sisters.

It’s a beautiful venue, a mix of modern and traditional architecture. Glimmering lights from the fountain mesmerizes the crowds as they wait for the doors to open.

Turandot- one of the few shows left in the season for Giacomo Puccini’s beloved classic.

Pretty soon, throngs of people line up at the door. Ball gowns, suits, jeans-people from all sorts of backgrounds gather for an evening of opulent entertainment.

Parts of their party saunter in and lines up and she waits anxiously for the last two of their group to join.

She sees him and his friend after a moment-dashing in his well fitted beige suit. She wonders for a brief moment why she hasn’t found him so handsome before but the moment passes and all too soon they are headed up the winding staircases lined in plush red carpet.

The crystal modern chandeliers twinkle majestically as they are flanked on both sides by towering Chagall murals. Gold gilded accents and the indescribable scent of luxury shines through the space.

It’s all together magical.

Their seats are at the very top of the large auditorium, close enough that the gold gilded ceilings are within an arm’s reach.

But when the music starts, the sound is beautifully rich-it’s true, she muses, there’s truly no bad seat in the opera.

That is, no bad seat  where the music isn’t obscured by an overhang.

In the nosebleeds, the sound waves bounce right off the ceiling back at them and it’s overwhelming.

The singing, the theatrics, the costumes and the sets! Oh the sets are too incredible to put into words and the time passes all too quickly.

During the intermissions, she wonders the bars on the balcony level and revels at the sight. The night is lovely and they snap a few photos.

The evening comes to an end all too soon.

But she’s determined to come back.

And she does.

Nearly a month later, she finds herself sitting in a box with her two sisters.

It’s a double bill, Cavalleria Rusticana / Pagliacci.

The music is even more beautiful than before, especially the famous Intermezzo and she’s moved to tears.

She doesn’t even wander the amazing grounds of the opera house during the intermission-she’s anxious for the show to continue.

And Pagliacci is even more entertaining than the show previous (although she must admit, the music from Cavalleria is more touching).

Opera.

There’s a reason why it’s so highly regarded.

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