Rest beside the weary road

In addition to the fairytale like rhyme and rhythm, there is a sense of the supernatural set up in this poem, with mention of an angelic and demonic order attempting to separate the two lovers.  But the real power lies in the haunting romance, the thought of these two souls still together after all they’ve had to endure.  (Spacey)

 

AnnabelleLee

I’ve mentioned AnnabelleLee before.  She’s the prettiest of the girls here, I think, altho’ she’s older, and you can see the little lines around her eyes and her mouth.  And she’s different, too, on account of she hardly ever sees any men, only one in fact, and him hardly ever.  And she don’t come out much, don’t know where she spends her time.  In  fact, sometimes I wonder if she might be a ghost or somethin’, ’cause where is she at the rest of the time?

I read a poem that Miz Suze give me that was named with AnnabelleLee’s name, and it runs around and around in my head.  It was by a man named Edgar Allen Poe, and here’s a part of it.

It was many and many a year ago, in a kingdom by the sea, that a maiden there lived whom you may know, by the name of Annabel Lee; and this maiden she lived without no other thought, than to love and be loved by me.  — But the wind came out of a cloud by night, chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

—We loved with a love that more than a love — and the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams — of the beautiful Annabel Lee . . .

It makes me all shivery when I think of it.  And I think that’s all I’ll say about AnnabelleLee.

 

 

 

Above all, be the heroine of your choices in life, and not the victim.      (Ephron)

Ethel Louise

Ethel Louise is the youngest a the girls here, and she’s the only one actually from Yella Rose, Texas.  Fact is, she’s the daughter of the mayor a Yella Rose, and he actually tole Miz Suze he’d pay her to keep Ethel Louise here.  I wasn’t supposed to know that, just happened to be in the hall when he was a’visitin’ one day.  Miz Suze, she got right aggervated and turned him down flat, tole him to stand up and be a father, but Ethel Louise is here anyways because he wasn’t doin’ much standin’ up, and Miz Suze wouldn’t turn nobody out anyways.

The reason the mayor said he’d pay to have Ethel Louise here is ’cause her and him had a big fight ’cause he won’t let her step out with that Johansson boy, and what did she do but up and run away to The Yella Schoolhouse, and tole Miz Suze she wanted to be one a the girls.  Miz Suze tole her back that she couldn’t have no customers, but she could stay until she decided to go back home and she tole Miz Suze back that would be when hell froze over, and she’s still here, four months later, so who knows . . .

I s’pect her pa thinks she’s safer here than runnin’ away somewheres else.  He don’t like that Johansson boy, tole Miz Suze he was  nothin’ but trouble.  And I reckon Ethel Louise’s doin’ what Matilde calls  rebellin’.  Like me, she don’t got no ma, and her pa says he never did know how to handle her.

I do know, since as you know by now, I keep pretty good tabs on what goes on here, that she’s been sneakin’ out of The Yella Rose Schoolhouse to see that Johansson boy, and if she ain’t careful, she’ll make a baby, and lord knows there’ll have to be a weddin’ then, even if the  mayor don’t like that boy.  When Miz Suze got on her case, Ethel Louise tole her kinda snooty-like that she had no intention of gettin’ pregnant (I’m not s’posed to say that word either), that she had big plans for herself that didn’t include no gettin’ married and no snotty nose kid.  When I tole AutumnGlory, she just shuffled her cards, shook her head, and said the best laid plans of mice and men, and that Ethel Louise isn’t likin’ Ethel Louise very much. I don’t know what mice got to do with anything.

I stood up to Ethel Louise one day and tole her I seen what she was doin’, and she slapped me and called me a dirty little sneak ‘n tattletale.  But then she started cryin’ and hugged me and said she didn’t mean it.  I don’t think she knows what she does want, mebbe she’s just unhappy with herself, like AutumnGlory says.

But I’ll keep on listenin’ and watchin’ in case I can do anything.  I don’t much like the way Ethel Louise is a’actin’, but she ain’t totally a bad sort.  And I kinda feel a connection since both our mamas died.

 

 

 

We do as much, we eat as much, we want as much. (Sojourn Truth)

As long as you keep a person down, some part of you has to be down there to hold the person down, so it means you cannot soar as you otherwise might.  (Marion Anderson)

Matildie and Compatriots

BessieJune again, and I am so excited!  You’ll never guess what happened.  But so what I tell ya will make sense, I gotta tell ya about Matildie first.  Now ya gotta understand, Matildie is not one of the girls, and I don’t think she ever has been.  She is the housekeeper and boss at The Yella Rose Schoolhouse, upstairs at least.  I don’t think she has much to do with the downstairs saloon.  She’s been here forever, and she’s pretty old, mebbe 40 even, and is pretty much like a mama to most of the girls.  And she’s the closest thing to a grandma I ever had.  I love her like I love Miz Suze, only in a different way.

And ya also gotta know that Matildie is a bonafide Suffergette. Now in case ya don’t know what that is, that is somebody who believes that women oughta have the right to vote, and are willin’ to do whatever they haveta, ta make that happen.  She’s a part of a group of women who have reg’lar meetins to discuss how they can help this whole thing along, or in other words, help men to see the light.  She says anything a man can do, a woman can, too, and prob’ly better.

But here’s the excitin’ part!  Matildie done went and got herself the spiffiest bicycle ever!!  An’ she got it painted in the Suffergette colors, purple fer loyalty and dignity, white fer purity, and green fer hope.  The first time she got on it, she hiked up her skirts and rode right into the saloon downstairs, and announced that Susan B. Anthony had said that the bicycle had done more to promote equal rights for women than anything else in the world and that was good enough for her.  You shoulda seen the men set up and take notice a that!  They probably didn’t like it too much, but they know better’n to mess with Matildie.

She was married oncet, and said the best day a her life was when she threw his sorry a__ out.  Ya might think it’s kinda queer and all, her house-keepin’ in a whorehouse, but she says somebody’s gotta look after these girls and it might as well be her, and she does a damned fine job.  If she knew I said that word, tho’, she’d prob’ly take a switch to me, and Miz Suze, even tho’ she don’t believe in censorin’, she’ll prob’ly mark it out with her red pencil.

Matildie’s got a jolly laugh like AutumnGlory, but she’s not too spiritual-like, she’s more down to earth, I reckon, the kinda woman who gets things done, like AnnabelleLee, another’n of our girls, says.  She never had no kids, mebbe ’cause of that ornery husband a hers, and I think she likes a’motherin’ us, and tryin’ to convert us to her way a thinkin’ about equal rights for women.  She said she’d take me with her on one of the marches her and her women friends go on soon, altho’ she grouches a lot about how backward we are down here in Texas, even tho’ she’s a loyal Texan herself, says we’re all slower’n molasses.  I reckon our bein’ so slow is because it’s so blamed hot in Texas, but it don’t seem to bother Matildie none.

But what I really hope?  That Matildie’ll let me ride her new bicycle.  I tell ‘er, it’ll prob’ly make a Suffergette outa me, too. Yeah.

We prostitute ourselves not only when we sell our bodies or minds for money, but also every time we compromise our morals or ethics for some kind of gain.  (Myss)

 

Barefoot Woman

It’s BessieJune again, tellin’ my story. Now mebbe you’re wonderin’ how come this is my story when all I do is ta write about the girls, but I’ll be tellin’ you all that terrectly.  Today I wanna talk about Barefoot Woman. She’s on my mind ’cause I seen her this mornin’ sneakin’ out ta ole Miz Dobbs’s house.

Now Miz Dobbs is an old widder woman what lives out by the pike.  Folks say she sells bootlegger likker, and she might, but you cain’t prove it by me.  I do know that she’s supposed ta hang out different colored underwear on her clothes line, dependin’ on what kinda likker she’s got ta sell that day, and my, she does have a lot of different colored knickers, and sometimes skivvies, too, even tho’ I don’t think she has a man.  Mebbe she wears them long johns herself, but I bet they’d be pretty scratchy.

Anyway ole Widder Dobbs might not have a man, but she’s got a passel of scruffy ole dogs that hang around her yard lookin’ mean and hungry.  I usta be real scared of ’em, but not since I seen ’em chasin’ Polecat Jackson not too long ago — now I even got a soft spot for the mangy ole things and throw ’em a scrap sometimes.

But back to Barefoot Woman.  When I seen her this mornin’, she was a’offerin’ Miz Dobbs a bag, a big bag, and I wondered if she was a’sellin’ her some of that there likker.  Barefoot Woman needs money more’n most of the other girls ’cause she’s got her a kid.  The kid’s named Pony, but I don’t think that’s his real name.  He lives with Barefoot Woman in her room, and she pays Matildie a little extra ta mind him when she’s a’workin’.  I know Miz Suze worries about havin’ Pony in a place like The Yella Schoolhouse, ’cause I hear her talkin’ to Barefoot Woman about how she oughta be thinkin’ about sendin’ him back to his people.  I could tell Miz Suze I think this is a fine place to grow up, but I don’t like to go agin her.

I don’t know what people Barefoot Woman come from — mebbe Apache — or mebbe Comanche, ’cause she can be real fierce.  And I wonder — did they kick her out, or did she run away, or get lost somehow.  More’n likely her people kicked her out, ’cause I think Pony is what they called a half-breed, and if she went and laid with a white man, her people woulda got real mad.

i do know Barefoot Woman seems so lonesome-like that I sometimes kinda feel this holler ache in my stomach, and I wonder if she feels that way all the time, like somethin’ gnawin’ away inside her.  It must be awful hard, bein’ part of a tribe and then they just throw ya out like you wasn’t worth nothin’, worser than they’d treat a dog.

Barefoot Woman always seems mad, too, but mebbe it’s because she never smiles or meets your eyes.  I know she’s real against drinkin’, so it’s kinda funny she’d be sellin’ home-brew to Widder Dobbs.  But folks have to make themselves do a lotta stuff for money, nobody know that more’n the girls what work here.

I do know Miz Suze is teachin’ Barefoot Woman ta read, ‘n hopin’ that if Barefoot Woman won’t do it ta send Pony back ta his people, she can at least get her another job somewheres away from The Yella Schoolhouse.  I hate ta tell Miz Suze that it ain’t likely tho’.  Once girls come ta a place like this, it’s mighty hard ta get away.

As Matildie says, that’s just the way this ole world is.

I wonder sometimes at the me that never grew because I grew here and not somewhere else, the me that would have grown elsewhere in place of the self I became.  (Tisdale)

Samantha Jocelyn

This is me, BessieJune again, back for another chapter in my story.  I don’t much feel like writin’ today, but Miz Suze, she says any writer worth her salt makes herself write every day as a discipline.  Be that as it may, mebbe the reason I don’t wanna write this one is because it’s gonna be about Samantha Jocelyn.  It’s the hardest one, I think, ’cause I  don’t rightly know Samantha Jocelyn enough to write about her.  But Matildie, she says to get a hard job out of the way first an’ then you’re home-free, so I’m a’gonna do it.

Samantha Jocelyn reminds me of the only doll I ever had when I was little (have I told you I’m ten?) — somebody give her to my pa and he give her to me so proud-like.  It was after my mama died.  And I loved that doll.  I named her Samantha.  She was real old, and her china face was all scarred and marked up, but she was beautiful to me.  I made her dresses outa scraps, and took ‘er everwhere with me.  Then that blamed no-good Polecat Jackson throwed her down the johnny-house hole when I wouldn’t give him my best cat-eye marble.  I like to killed him when I caught him, but it done no good since Samantha was already gone.  I still grieve after that doll, almost more’n my ma.

I reckon the reason Samantha Jocelyn reminds me of my Samantha is because her face never changes.  It’s just like marble, still and quiet and perfect.  She never laughs and altho’ she joins in with the other girls like in the Readings and stuff, she hardly ever says nothin’.  Her eyes are so empty it scares me sometimes, and when I say somethin’ to AutumnGlory about that, she just hugs me and says, honey, she’s like a wounded animal, be kind.  It don’t cost nothin’ to be kind.

I do know from what the other girls said that Samantha Jocelyn come from a real rich family.  I don’t rightly know how she ended up here in Yella Rose, Texas at our schoolhouse, but she’s been here a long time.  I reckon it’s her home-like.  I never seen her room, but it’s real sparse-like, I think.  The girls won’t tell me what happened to her before she come here, but I overheard ’em talkin’ one time about somethin’ really bad that went on in her family, somethin’that her pa done ‘er when she was young, somethin’ so bad that I don’t even wanna talk about it here.  I do know that AutumnGlory’s probably right about her bein’ wounded and all.  It’s right hard, tho’, to figure out how to be kind to someone like Samantha Jocelyn.

I did get a smile outa her one time when I told her how I beat the poop outa Polecat Jackson.  She touched me real soft-like on the shoulder, and said, that’s really good, BessieJune Pruitt.  Never let any man ever hurt you.

And that’s real good advice.  I never will.  I’ll always think of that look in Samantha Jocelyn’s eyes, and I’ll remember.

Art and poetry create a space where we can focus on our feelings — it does not answer questions or set agendas, but creates space — space to laugh, to mourn, and to wonder who and how and why we are.  (Marcheschi)

 

JANELLE ELISE

Hey, this is BessieJune again, and today I wanna tell you about Miz Janelle Elise.  She is our Poet-in-Residence, Miz Suze says.  Every day she has what she calls a Reading for all of us, when she reads either her own or someone else’s poetry.  Sometimes it’s pretty interestin’, and sometimes I don’t understand it too good, but I sure like the tea and scones that Miz Janelle Elise insists that our housekeeper Matildie (I’ll tell you about her later) serves everyone.  I guess everybody else does, too, ’cause they all come.  And eat hearty while they’re a’listenin’.

Rumor has it that when she’s a’workin’ (that means when she’s entertainin’ gentleman customers), she makes ’em listen to poetry, too.  That kinda keeps her clientele down, but I don’t think she cares much, and Miz Trixie, she’s not around any longer to give her a hard time about keepin’ her numbers up.  She attracts a certain type a customer, too, kinda gentle-lookin’ sorts — I like them a lot better than the usual guys what come here, and I notice Miz Suze is most nicer to them, too.

I don’t know much about what Janelle Elise was like before she come here, as she don’t talk about it none at all.  Could be some of that poetry I don’t understand has to do with it, but it’s not real clear.  Pretty when it rhymes, but not too clear.  When I turn on my imagination (by the way, Miz Suze has the most interestin’ name for imagination — she calls it her phoophoonikkee — isn’t that funny, it always makes me laugh) tho’, what I think is that she was real rich and somehow either lost all her money, or got kicked out by her family for some reason . . . mebbe it was all that poetry.

Why I say that is because she has the prettiest clothes, and always wears long flow-y gowns and long flow-y beads, too.  She tinkles and clinks, and it makes a nice kinda accompaniment to her Readings.  Exceptin’ after the scones and tea are all gone, it makes ya kinda sleepy.  I like to sit by AutumnGlory or Miz Suze ’cause they’ll poke me if I nod off.  And I wanna be polite.  I like Miz Janelle Elise.

I guess I’m not doin’ too good a job of tellin’ about Miz Janelle Elise ’cause I don’t understand her too good.  I think she must be what Miz Suze calls a philosopher.  AutumnGlory just laughs and says still waters run deep.  Me, I think maybe that one poem she reads sometimes called The Highwayman might tell a lot of her own story, especially the part in the poem when the innkeeper’s daughter Bess gets locked up by her family when all she wanted was to go off with her feller, even if he was a crook — how he told her Look for me by moonlight, Watch for me by moonlight, I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way —  and then when he did come, that Bess in the poem up and killed herself to warn him they was a’layin’ a trap for him.  Miz Janelle Elise didn’t actually kill herself, but I wonder now if a part of her ain’t dead — and when I hear those words about the landlord’s black-eyed daughter, Bess, the landlord’s daughter, plaiting a dark red love-knot into her hair, it gives me a shiver all over.

Mebbe Miz Janelle Elise is what they call a tortured soul (another phrase I adopted from one of AutumnGlory’s books).  I do know she kinda makes me think that when Miz Suze, kinda sad-and-gentle-like, says that all the girls are here because of their past, that it’s probably true.

But then I’m here because of my past, too, so I guess I fit in just right.

 

Surrender expectations.  Ask to be surprised by joy . . .

Listen to your life.  See it for the fathomless mystery that it is.  In the boredom and pain of it no less than in the excitement and gladness of it.  Touch.  Taste.  Smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it.  Because in the final analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace . . .  There is no event so commonplace that God is not present within it, always hidden, always leaving you room to recognize or not to recognize It . . . (Buechner)

 

AUTUMNGLORY

This is me again, BessieJune Pruitt, with the opening chapter of My Story.  That there other part you just read was the Introduction, Miz Suze says.  And I decided to start with AutumnGlory’s story, because after Miz Suze, she is my favorite of the girls.  I think it’s because she laughs so much, she’s so jolly all the time, and she always has time for me.  She’s been here a long time, and I think she’s older than she seems, because I see some henna hair rinse in her room, and the gray roots show sometimes.  But you don’t care because she’s so kind.  Miz Suze says it’s because she believes in herself, because she’s been through some hard times that have taught her a lot, and she understands that everybody’s going through a hard time.

I asked AutumnGlory if that was her real name, and she laughed and said lord, no, honey, I was given the name of Henrietta Bottomly, now if that ain’t a mouthful that nobody wants to say, what is it.  So I think she chose a name that shows how much she loves nature — she’s hardly ever in the Yella Schoolhouse; she’s always outside somewhere.

I think she kinda acts like the other girls’ mama or older sister at least.  She reads the cards and the tea-leaves, and kinda gives ’em advice-like.  She’s always careful to say, tho’, that the cards and the leaves, they don’t predict the future, they just give possibilties and probabilities of what’s gonna happen up ahead based on your choices and decisions now.  She won’t read mine, just says I’m too young, I’ve got too much livin’ to do yet to worry about such things, that I just need to let life happen, and embrace it all, honey.

Can you see why I love AutumnGlory?  She don’t talk much about her past, but what she did tell me makes me think she might not’ve had any parents, or leastwise any parents that cared about her.  She musta lived on the streets of some big city back east when she was real young after she run away from the orphanage she got stuck in — she said she was set on gettin’ somewhere where they was trees and she could breathe deep, honey.  So guess what she did?? — she smuggled away on a train that was comin’ west when she was only eight!  She won’t talk much about what happened to her during all that time but I think it musta been pretty bad, ’cause that’s the only time I see AutumnGlory look sad, when she thinks about the past.

But she don’t do that much because she’s always so much enjoyin’ the present.  And she tells us to do that, too.  Dance and sing and look around, honey — in every tree or apple or flower you see, there is an aha! a’waitin’.  Ever-thing, she says, is holy.  When ya eat an apple, think of the person who planted the tree.  And be grateful, honey.

You can see that AutumnGlory, she’s real religious-like.  But not religious like church or the preacher.  I don’t know too much about what’s holy and all that but I think AutumnGlory does.  I think she knows somethin’ real-like that most other folks don’t know.  But bein’ around her, ya kinda feel like you’re closer to that holy.

Mebbe it’s because of all those hard times.  I know Miz Suze thinks a lot of her. And even goes to her for advice sometimes.  And if you wanna see her, you can usually find her under a tree somewhere.  She says when she’s ready to die, she just hopes someone takes her out and plants her under a tree.

Well, that’s AutumnGlory.  I hope I done her justice ’cause she’s a mighty fine woman.  And most folks in this town, they know that.  I never heard a hard thing about her, and for this town, that’s sayin’ a lot.  If you wanna meet her, look for her under that tree, and don’t put on airs — she has a way of seein’ thru most things.

 

The best laid plans of mice and men . . . (or in this case, women) . . .

My name is BessieJune Pruitt, and I aim to tell you a story.  Miz Suze, my teacher, and the person I admire most in all the world, give me an assignment for the class I’m takin’ now that she calls Creative Writing — she said I was to tell you MY story, just the way I wanted to — she don’t believe in censorin.’   So that’s what I’m gonna do.  In a way, my story is Miz Suze’s story, too, or at least the way I understood the part of her story she’s been livin’ since I met her.

I first met Miz Suze when she rode into town — we live in a town called Yella Rose, Texas — on the train.  She was comin’ to be the new schoolmarm, in fact, the only schoolmarm since we never had one before.  The preacher, he’d been a’tryin’ to teach us some, but it was a lost cause seein’ as how he just couldn’t keep from preachin’ and the kids couldn’t stand that.  And I’ll havta admit we played all kinds of tricks on him to get him to quit.  And he really hadta quit, he got real nervous-like and took to his bed, and he’s still there.

Well, anyway, Miz Suze, she was kinda surprised to find we didn’t have a schoolhouse, or any kinda buildin’ to use except what usta be Miz Trixie’s Finishing School.  In fact, it still is Miz Trixie’s Finishing School, since the girls what work at that place didn’t have anywhere else to rightly go, and Miz Suze wasn’t about to run ’em out on the street.  So she just moved right in, and became one of the girls right along with ’em.  The other kids and me kinda like it since we’d never been allowed inside Miz Trixie’s unlessin’ we sneaked in.  And Miz Suze, right away she renamed the place The Yella Rose, after the town, you see; she said it was more “in keepin’ with things.”

The girls are still tryin’ to figure out if they’re still in business, so to speak, cause Miz Trixie, she done took offta California with that tall, dark stranger (I read that description in one of the penny-dreadful books I found in Miz AutumnGlory’s room) that come into town not too long ago.  I’m thinkin’ they probably still are at their trade, altho’ Miz Suze has been workin’ on ’em to think better of themselves, and is even havin’ classes for ’em, too.  Since she also lives here in Miz Trixie’s Finishin’ School — whoops, I mean The Yella Rose Schoolhouse — oh, by the way, The Yella Rose Schoolhouse is how Miz Suze calls it, but the mayor, he said it hadta be called the Yella Rose Saloon since the other saloon burned down, just about the time Miz Trixie and her feller left town — there was some said she was gettin’ her revenge for all the town had done ta her, an’ if that is true, I am on Miz Trixie’s side since people were real mean to her sometimes — but back to my story.  And also Miz Suze’s story.

I think Miz Suze mighta been promised a lot more than was delivered by the town uppities, so to speak, since I don’t think she was expectin’ to run her school outa what also serves as a saloon, and I heard her mutterin’ to herself one time about how was she gonna work out of a saloon downstairs an’ a whorehouse upstairs an’ a schoolroom in the corner, but as we learned, she ain’t one to let life get the better of her.  And the girls, the ones that have stayed, they mostly ‘ve come to like her a lot, too.  And gettin’ to know the girls has been real good for me, too.  I ain’t got a mama, you see, just my daddy who works down at the livery.  He works real hard, and ain’t home much, so I really like hangin’ out with the girls.  And that’s how I got so close to Miz Suze, too.

So all that kinda tells you how this here story that I’m a’gonna tell you came into bein.’  I don’t rightly know much of Miz Suze’s story before she come here, but I think there’s some mystery and some sadness and some secrets there, stuff she don’t tell any of us.  But that sad look she gets in her eye sometimes, it don’t keep her from teachin’ us real good.  An’ this here story, my Creative Writing assignment, is gonna be the best story ever.  I’m a’gonna tell you the story of each one of the girls’ lives who live here— that is, if’n they’ll tell ’em to me first.  I know AutumnGlory will, she’s really nice and jolly and she said sure, she’d go first.  And after all, the girls here, they already done a lot of livin’, and me, I ain’t done any yet, so my story woulda been kinda boring.

I’ll begin with AutumnGlory, but that’ll have to be a little later.  I still gotta do my chores, and while Miz Suze is right nice, she don’t countenance laziness.  So I’ll talk to you later.

 

Weirdness makes life interesting.  (Edgar Allen Poe)

Perhaps my dear readers, even in the midst of their busy lives and more pressing concerns, may recall a seven episode series of these blogs from last year entitled “The Old Country Store and Post Office.”  It was a tale of early 20th century rural life, having to do with ghosts and murders and deserted mines and a motley assorted crew of country folks whose lives were thrown into some disarray by the arrival of a stranger in town.  (You are invited to scroll backwards through bunches of blogs should you want to refresh your memories!).

The stranger’s name happened to be Suze Campbell — does she ring a “bell”??  (Heh, heh.). This is how I described her at that time:

       But what I started tellin’ you all this for is because just as Mam was finishin’ totalin’ up, in comes a stranger.  Now we don’t get too many strangers comin’ to these here parts, ‘specially seein’ as how times are gettin’ so hard up. And this stranger was a whooo-whee.  It was a woman, and she was dressed in skintight leather britches and a red vest lined with some kinda fur.  She was tall, mebbe six feet, and she had a knapsack flung over her shoulder, and let me tell you, she was a fine figger of a woman.  None of us had heard her ride up, and didn’t rightly know where she came from even.  (from The Old Country Store and Post Office, Episode 2.  11/11/2018).

Have you guessed?  Yep, Ms. Suze Campbell was indeed Suzy Bell “all growed up.”

Since by now you will probably have read more than one of these blogs, you will know that your author has a rather whimsical turn of mind.  But even she was astonished at this turn of events.  Who woulda thought?

I guess Suzy Bell(issima) really did claim her “real self,” since we learned in future episodes of The Old Country Store and Post Office that Ms. Suze Campbell was quite a feisty and spirited dame.  Aren’t you glad for Suzy Bell?

So — it occurred to me that maybe it would be fun to find out exactly what became of Suze Campbell after she left the good people of The Old Country Store and Post Office to head down Texas-way to apparently become a school teacher.

Stay tuned.

What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.  (Ralph Waldo Emerson)

Rather than being a depressed, mixed up, dissociative kid, (kids like those who were frequently brought to me for so-called “diagnosis and treatment” because they weren’t doing well in school or were perceived to be socially maladjusted or  too “shy”), maybe Suzy Bell was just a normal, highly creative and imaginative kid, reacting to a difficult home situation with grief, in all its normal stages . . . sadness and depression (in The River of Tears), and confusion and anger and feeling lost (in The Road North).

And then there’s Suzy Bell’s “helpers” — she had a lot of them along the way:  the Wolf, who perhaps symbolized an inner spiritual resource, her “guide”;  the Angel-in-the-moon, a shrink type who made a stab at some cognitive restructuring in helping Suzy Bell to find some kind of way to live in an unhappy situation with her Hallelujah Anyway advice; and of course The Lady and the Dragonfly, spiritual resources who helped bring it all home for Suzy Bell, enabling her to claim her real self, Suzy Bellissima.

In my teaching days, I would have talked about this treatment process being one of cognitive restructuring leading to an increased capacity for better emotional regulation, of enabling Suzy Bell to work through her grieving to a place of acceptance and more positive coping.

But the true healing lies in the magic of Suzy Bell’s discovery of who she truly is, and of what her place in the world is all about.  Young or old, may we all be so blessed as to discover Suzy Bellissima’s Magic.