JULIE ANN STEVENS

The only thing more anticipated than Christmas morning in our house was the arrival of the —

Sears Wish Book. 

Of course there were only a handful of pages my brothers and sisters and I cared about — and yet —

Night after night we huddled cheek-to-cheek on the brown nubby couch, stray springs popping out here and there, tell tale signs of our bouncing and banging or rocking when— well —

There was nothing to hold our attention like — the wish book of wide-eyed imagination and un-adult-erated glee —

And — we were —

Still.

Si-lent. 

Deeply engrossed in —

Wishing.

I love the image of our 10 pajama feet lined up on the old couch — none of them touching the ground.

As it should be when —

You’re walking on air.