Ruby Slippers

The Wizard of Oz: a staple in my house. 

My grandmother, Dorothy, grew up on a farm in Kansas.  She didn't have a dog named Toto, but she did have a pig named Mupsy.  She was fourteen years old when the iconic film hit the silver screen.  Later in life, she began collecting memorabilia and ended up with an impressive selection.  There were collector's plates, framed art, posters, purses, and an entire Christmas tree filled to the point of bursting with Wizard ornaments, perched precariously atop a yellow brick road tree skirt.  Figurines and music boxes peeked out from every nook and cranny. 

And the ruby slippers.  I found them at a rummage sale when I was about nine years old, and I remember turning to my mom with a grin and announcing, "I know what we're going to give Grandma for her birthday this year!"  We took them home and cleaned them with care.  Mom made a special shelf to display them, and hand-carved There's no place like home! in the base.  We proudly presented this to Grandma on her birthday, and she immediately pointed out a place of honor on the rec room wall...where they lived for nearly twenty years.

I had my own ruby slippers when I was younger, and to this day I feel I must own at least one pair of sassy red shoes at all times to honor this tradition.  The Princess has had at least five pairs in her almost three years with us, and will never be without them as long as I can help it.

When my grandma passed away just over three years ago, the ruby slippers came to live with me.  The hand-made shelf adorns the wall just above my computer monitor, where I'm sure to see it often.  And it reminds me of her every time I catch even a peripheral glimpse.

Feeling nostalgic, I popped The Wizard of Oz into the DVD player this weekend to let it play in the background as I crocheted my little heart out.

Imagine my surprise when The Princess toddled into the room and stared at the television in wonder.  This was during the opening sequence, before it switches to Technicolor.  She stood in amazement for a couple of minutes before slowly backing up - never once taking her eyes off of Judy Garland - and plopping in her chair.  She watched raptly as Dorothy and Toto rushed home, trying to beat the storm to get back to Auntie Em.  Her attention did not waver, but her little hands grasped her Mega-Blok so hard her knuckles turned white as the house flew through the sky.

As soon as the tornado was over and Dorothy opened her front door upon Munchkinland, my munchkin's eyes got as big as saucers and an uninhibited grin spread from one perfect little ear to the other.  Glinda spoke, and The Princess leaned forward, hanging on her every word.  The munchkins came out of their hiding places and began to sing, and my little girl flopped back in her chair with one of those glorious head-thrown-back, mouth-wide-open, ain't-no-doubt-she's-the-happiest-kiddo-in-the-world laughs.

Then the wicked witch came on the screen.  The Princess immediately made herself as small as possible and her knuckles went white again.  Her eyes widened as she tucked her chin into her chest like a turtle.  But she couldn't look away.  I spoke slowly in a steady, calm voice, explaining that it was okay and that the witch would be gone in a minute.  She visibly relaxed a bit, but her fear was not alleviated until that witch was gone in a puff of red smoke and the munchkins resumed their singing.

I don't recall the point in the movie where The Princess got up and went into her room to play, but I'll never forget the rapt attention she paid to the beginning.  This is a little girl who has never - not even once - shown an interest in anything on TV beyond the fact that she obsesses over theme songs and a few select game shows.  She has certainly never shown any signs of following a plot before.  But I know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that she got this one.  The facial expressions, the little nuances in the dialogue: she reacted to them just as I did when I was a kid.  Just as every other kid I've known.

The Wizard of Oz has always held special meaning for me, ever since I was The Princess's age.  And I will never forget this new meaning, added by my little girl, for as long as I live.