The Magician's Parrot

Christmas was always a special time in our house. Gran, who had grown up in a warm climate, knew how to make artificial snow out of flour, water and glitter. When the concoction was done, she carefully painted it on the windows and window sills. We children enjoyed helping her with the decorating, but tried to disappear when Christmas was over and the clean up began.

On the day after Christmas one-year we were released from the clean-up duty when Gran's good friend Ida appeared on the doorstep. All set to spend the week with us, she put down her bedraggled suitcase and picked up a scrub brush.

"We'll have this stuff off the window in no time" She announced happily. "Though why you bother to do it is beyond me." She smiled at Gran.

"For the children." Gran answered nodding toward us.

"I see." Ida said, though it was evident she didn't at all understand the necessity of putting artificial snow on one's windows.

"Have you ever told them about the magician's parrot?" Ida asked, scrubbing fiercely. "It's that time of year you know."

"I'd all but forgotten…." Gran said.

"Tell us, tell us." We demanded our curiosity peaked.

"When the windows are clean we'll all sit down for a cup of hot cocoa and Ida can tell you the story" Gran smiled at her friend.

Soon the windows were sparkling like jewels in the morning sunshine, and Gran was ushering us into the tiny kitchen. While the two old friends measured out the sugar, the milk and the cocoa, we kids fidgeted in our chairs.

As we sat before a plate of Gran's homemade sugar cookies and steaming cups of hot cocoa, Ida looked at Gran.

"Time marches on Kate." She said sadly. "Since Eurlena died last year we are the only two remaining members of our group."

Gran nodded silently.

Then looking at us kids, she brightened. "Ahh. But the children want to hear about the magician's parrot."

"When we were girls, not much older than you children are today, there was an old magician that lived very near to us. Talk was, he'd been very famous in his youth. Some said he was very rich and that he'd performed for the King of England, and movie stars and even the President.

We didn't know about that, all we were interested in was his parrot that he called Chester. Anytime we saw the old magician there would be that great green parrot riding on his shoulder and squawking, 'Please I'm hungry.'

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