The Red Fox Fur
Most children in my day had a relative
that, in some way or another, frightened them. (This probably
has not changed.) My grandmother's sister was my great-aunt and
her name was "Maggie", a nickname for Margaret. When
Aunt Maggie came to visit, my brother and I would run and hide.
Both of us had different reasons. Bruce hid behind the dining
room door, hoping to escape those unbearable hugs and kisses that
she always managed to lavish upon him. For me, it was another
reason. I would run outside and hope and pray that she was in
a hurry and wouldn't stay for supper.
Aunt Maggie had a "real dead-animal"
fur stole that, it seemed, she always wore - almost as if it was
a part of her. For some reason, that red fox fur always ended
up on our dining room table (not while we were eating) and I simply
could not get it out of my mind. I wondered how anyone could hang
a dead animal around their neck.
I was only six and it frightened me. I
was sad, too, because I could see the face and eyes of the red
fox that Aunt Maggie wore around her neck. I wanted animals with
fur to run free and play.
After many visits, I finally asked my mother
about the dead red fox with the glassy eyes. My mother told me
that it was the 'fashion' to wear furs and Aunt Maggie certainly
liked to be fashionable.
That was when I decided that I would 'never'
be fashionable. ~Joan Adams Burchell~ (copyright)
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