A Time for Blueberries

My new favorite quote I have adopted from Classmate Katoba is:  “Children are made readers on the laps of their parents.”  Read on and you’ll see why!
— Emilie Buchwald

The edge of late summer….  The garden is ripening into various stages of “ready to be picked”  goodness.  Chores around the house are nearly complete…. Beds are made, the dishes washed, the floors are swept, and the last of the laundry is hanging on the line…. and a quiet satisfaction comes over my mother.  A satisfaction that says, to me as a young child, that at least for a moment, all is right with her world.  And with that moment of rightness she would look at me with a gleam in her eye,  and with her voice lowered, say, “let’s read”.  To my mother, reading in the middle of day, in this case the mid-afternoon, was an indulgence. “Let’s read, Blueberries for Sal, shall we?”  She would pour iced tea for the both of us, while I fetched Blueberries for Sal from the bottom shelf of the bookcase.  Then we would sit in the shade of the porch on the porch swing, condensation beading on our glasses of iced tea,Blueberries for Sal on my mother’s lap.  ”Shall we?” she would say again.  Nodding with eager affirmation I would criss cross my legs on the swing, oblivious to the cuts and bruises on my knees and shins, and move close to her.  Then together my mother and I would enter the pages of Blueberries for Sal.  She was Mother, I was Sal, and we were on a hillside in Maine, covered with blueberry bushes all wanting to be picked.   My mother picked her berries with efficiency, I picked my berries with fascination and wonder.  Looking carefully at each one, gently testing the softness between my fingers…. and then plop! into my mouth.

As the story progresses two more characters:  Mother Bear and Little Bear, we discover, are among the blueberry bushes.  ”Little Bear, eat lots of blueberries and grow big and fat.  We must store up food for the long, cold winter”.   Eventually Mother (Sal’s mother/my mother), is followed by baby bear, and Mother Bear is followed by  ME! …  Sal.  Oh I would giggle when the mothers of the story realized the mix-up.  My own mother would break from her reading and say, “Oh how silly is that” And I would say back to her, “How silly is that”, and snuggle closer to hear the end of the story.

Blueberries for Sal written by Robert McCloskey in 1948 will always for me be more than a beautiful story with a humorous twist.  It will always be the warmth, love, and safety I felt with my mother as a very young child.  How lucky I have been to recreate this scenario with my own daughters…. a multi-generational link…. A gift given to me… and later from me….that, for at least a moment, All is right with our world…..