BTT #45: Changeling

Snow White Tea Set

Changeling

Once, up on a shelf in my sister’s room on a slender stand of silver there was a round and shining mirror. With my sister gone to school and my mother napping in an empty afternoon, I quietly entered the brightness of the room.  The white canopied bed with rose covers curved and billowed in the center as the desk and two different dressers circled it with fluted legs and scrolling edges frilled with a feathering of golden shiny trim.  A small table surrounded by bears and ponies was set with saucers and cups, each one painted with a Dwarf or a Hunter or an Evil Queen.  But my finger still traces the one with the arbor of green framing the well where the girl with winter white skin and dark eyes cast her hopes into still and hidden waters.  She sang about a prince, but I see now that she simply missed her mother’s long and gentle arms of kindness wrapped around a lost and trembling heart.

The mirror, up and away from my small hands, reached to me. I moved a chair and climbed and took it down and held it as I sat slowly twirling on the dark mahogany stool with eagle claw legs.  I flipped the glass back and forth from close to far, but soon settled and batted my eyes at the reflection, where I saw the long dark eyelashes and sparkling smile of my mother, with my head tilted as she would do, unconcernedly off to one side.  Outside the door and past the large and cluttered playroom with the purple carpet and around the corner and down an unfinished hallway of laundry and mason jars and cement, was a room papered with cowboys and lariats and wild broncos bordering dark panels of powerful veneer.  It was any boy’s dream and it belonged to me, but still I sat twirling alone in my sister’s room; feeling like I belonged.

♥·

A heart danced lightly

Into the reddening woods.

Huntsman brings a box.

  • Lona Gynt, November, 2018

This is linked in response to dVerse Open Link Night, it is partially in response to Lillian’s prompt to write a poem that begins with the stock phrase “Once Upon a…  (anything but time).”  I missed the deadline for that link so I am doing this in Kim’s Open Link Night:

Here is the link to OLN (it is always a blast)

Open Link Night # 231

Here is the link to Lillian’s Prompt on the Stock Phrase “Once Upon a Time” where I missed the time 😉

Stock Phrases

But I am also doing a Two-fer.  This also fits Merril’s lovely Haibun Monday with the theme of transitions.  Here is the prompt there.

Haibun Monday: Transitions

©All Rights Reserved for Text to Lona Gynt, November 2018.

The images are from the site “Filmic Light”  here is a link:

http://filmic-light.blogspot.com/2017/04/23-piece-snow-white-tea-set-by-marx.html

These are photos I found there of the same tea-set type that my sister had – but still intact.  I don’t think hardly any pieces from her actual set remain.  We were a large group of kids that played with rather than museum pieced our toys.  Check out the saucer on the bottom left corner below.  As stated at Filmic Light:  “This blog is not affiliated with the Walt Disney Company or any other corporate enterprise. It is an independent fan site dedicated to all things Snow White. All images are copyrighted by their respective copyright owners and are displayed only for historical, archival, and celebratory purposes.”

Wishing Well

For a different take on mirrors, look into my vampire story in my previous post (ok, advertisement done now 💜)

33 thoughts on “BTT #45: Changeling

  1. I enjoyed this insight into your early life, Lona. I have an acquaintance, a boy I taught when I was still a high school teacher who is now a very beautiful young lady. She always had style and while other boys were playing football and such like, she was either in my classroom reading, watching films and chatting, or she was sewing costumes for school plays and outfits for girls. What nobody else knew was that she secretly wore the outfits she made – they were really for her.
    I love the part in the prose where your ‘finger still traces the one with the arbor of green framing the well where the girl with winter white skin and dark eyes cast her hopes into still and hidden waters. She sang about a prince, but I see now that she simply missed her mother’s long and gentle arms of kindness wrapped around a lost and trembling heart’ and the haiku is a lovely crown to the Snow White story..

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Such a kind and generous comfort in your words, after a bit of a rough night, they bring tears a little. I am grateful that beautiful young lady had a kind teacher who provided a place of safety and peace where she could learn context and be herself. This is what the world needs more of. Well done my friend.

      Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you Bjorn, I guess Lillian awakened the fairy tale vibe and Merril opened the transition story with her prompt. I do see Alice here, how many times do drown down into our mirrors. This was a real mirror, but I had more the feel of the Magic Mirror, you ask what you want of it, but it shows only truth, which can hurt and turn to deadly vengeance or for me remembering this now – joyful affirmation.

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    1. I am glad you felt some of the universality of childhood in this. It is nice for a 0.3% minority to feel like they can reflect a part of the larger humanity. And there is a positive power in knowing we all can share part of the same magic. Thanks Merril 💜

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Well, it’s not the same, I know, but everything in our house was alive according to our daughters–crayons, seashells, everything sang, danced, and had families. And we are all people first, aren’t we? Our older daughter came out as a freshman in college. I know she struggled, even though it was not a surprise at all to me, her father, or her sister when she told us.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. sanaarizvi

    Sigh ,, this is so raw and poignant .. I must confess my eyes welled up as I was reading.. sometimes people forget that at the end of the day we are just human and deserve respect and acceptance as any other.. ❤️ Thank you for sharing!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. thank you Sanaa, your response on this really means a great deal to me. I really had a pretty awesome childhood with wonderful family, but I had no context to know who I was. Looking back on this has been meaningful and I am glad to share it. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  3. I like the detail piled upon detail in this and the contrast between the two rooms. It reminds me of the opening passage of “The Corrections (?)” by Jonathon Franzen where the character describes his fathers’ basement, the acutely observed detail brings the scene to life..JIM

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank Jim! I have carried the memory around a long time. I still have vivid dreams about the place, I suppose most of do about our childhood homes. The detail of setting is something you do so well (ie: Yosemite). I am over the moon to hear this comment from you!

      Liked by 1 person

  4. The mirror is also a well — where a buckaroo comes back transformed as a Lady of the Lake, a mother perhaps of true self … Those are deeper reflections and could be awry; suffice that the surfaces of this haibun shimmer and gleam so delicately and delightfully.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you my friend, your reading carries tremendous meaning for me. Reflected light can indeed be bent and folded, one can spend decades running from a true beam. Thank you for the shimmer and gleam, makes my day! 💃🏻

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you! The boxes can be tough, but we just need to do the best we can, we need some structure and societal boxes for kids or else we all go all “Lord of the flies “ pretty quick (bzzz) 🙂
      But I do wish that my particular corner of society had been able to recognize and provide some context for my particular circumstance early on, then I would perhaps not spent decades in what ultimately turned out to be a futile attempt to run from or deny who I am. There have been some profound dangers for me because of that and many loved ones would not have been hurt – so I would not say to disintegrate all the boxes, but context and support would be such a blessing for those 0.3% of the next gen transkiddos coming up. We all cis, trans humans do need mirrors. I am so grateful for your kind visit 💜

      Liked by 1 person

      1. My daughters have a niece/nephew, the child of their half sister, who is finally coming into his own. He is lucky to have a lot of support, even from his high school. I think things are changing, if slowly.

        Liked by 1 person

  5. This is wonderful! It brought back memories of sneaking into my older sister’s room – mostly I dreamed of her moving out and me getting my own room, lol. As children, we are not afraid to dream big, and that came through. The last line of the haiku of was ominous and somewhat frightening. So good.

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    1. Thank you. The huntsman is a little scary, hearts get boxed by society. But I have always been encouraged that the Huntsman didn’t just follow orders, but instead he let the girl go free. Thinking inside the box can be ominously cruel. Thank YOU, for your kindness VJ 🙋🏻‍♀️

      Liked by 1 person

  6. Ah, the title unto itself has such a quality to it which acquaints us with this story of a childhood where the boundaries were set only by the preconditioned rules and strictures of the society but the heart soared and imagined and wondered about all who we were and all that we could be.
    I felt such a surge of emotions — sweet, tender, loving, and a bit of fear too (when it is still difficult for a person to live and thrive in one’s individuality) — with all the careful details of the room and the mirror particularly. As an object, it is wonderful how it as a motif to this particular prompt of transition provides an opportunity to see through the folds of time. And of course, the depth of it like the depth of self is beautifully expressed. I love it and its telling, with that haiku bringing it all together in its wisdom and thought. Thank you for this wonderful haibun! ❤ 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you Anmol for such a thoughtful reading. That touch of fear was barely perceptible when I had this vivid moment in my childhood, but it defined and constrained all my steps, now it lives as a partner to love pertaining to a fear for how my transitioning would harm my family who depends on me. I am still struggling, therefore, to pull myself up and out of the mirror. To be able to finally share this memory helps me at least to affirm that the imperatives of self are there. The kind comments, with yours being especially thoughtful, have brought me considerable and tender joy. Thank you friend. 💜🙋🏻‍♀️

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  7. therisa

    Thank you, Lona. I cried as I read this. Wishing, I had such an experience growing up. Being the eldest of two alleged boys (the alleged one being me), things like this never existed. At the age of seven, I had to hide myself, for wanting to be Wonder Woman, as the village boys played super heroes, on a hot Sunday afternoon, in August. My bike, her invisible jet took me to safety, as they rode angrily after me, seeking to hurt me. For the next 28 years, I keep my “Therisa” side hidden, in fear. Yes, I do know all too well, the dangers, we must face to be true to our inner self. I hope, you can find more “safe” memories to guide you, in this journey of self-discovery and true healing.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Pingback: I am Worried About Jessica. Full posting. – Scattered thoughts made a little more random

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