There's No Place Like Home

Melissa wished she’d bought the ruby slippers that reminded her of Christmas, but now it was too late

- CARRIE HEWLETT

SEEING the pair of ruby slippers in the shop window atop a set of stacked golden cushions immediately sparked happy memories.

Melissa loved the magic of Christmas. The excitement swept through everyone, spreading the happiness thickly like raspberry jam on a scone topped with a huge dollop of cream. It felt like a yearly gateway to the past, each year and memory becoming more precious.

She’d been six years old and remembered the day as if it were yesterday.

“Nearly there, Dad,” she said as she watched her father stretch to carefully place the silver star atop their now decorated Christmas tree.

The fairy lights twinkled in a haphazard fashion, blinking their rainbow of colors and making Melissa feel as if she’d been transported into a fantasy world.

“All done,” her dad smiled.

“Do you remember our tradition, sweetie?” her mom asked. “That the youngest member of the household always opens a present the night before Christmas?”

Melissa nodded eagerly as her mom handed her a box and her face lit up as she opened it. “They’re just like Dorothy’s magical pair of shoes. Thank you!” She’d been watching The Wizard of Oz with her mom only a few days earlier.

As soon as Melissa had seen Dorothy’s ruby slippers, she’d wanted a pair. Proudly slipping her feet into the shoes, she’d twirled before clicking her heels together, like she’d seen Dorothy do at the end of the movie. “There’s no place like home!” she’d cried.

Her parents had laughed and clapped their hands.