Yes, Harriet is a Leap Year
Baby, born on February 29th.
Well she’s not a baby anymore.
She is a wonderful friend, a contemporary of mine and our other friends.
Last year, when she didn’t
have a birthday, friends were on the telephone back and forth, planning. It was all about trying to arrange something
special to recognize the day that wouldn’t be.
The idea was to pick her up shortly after 11:00 P.M. the night of February
28th. We would chauffer her to an all
night diner. There a late snack and
good conversation would take us through the midnight hour into the first day of
March and perhaps a very early breakfast.
What a fun memory for her to have.
It turned out the idea,
exciting to think about doing, was not totally appealing to the
mature partygoers we all had become.
“Hmmm, I don’t know. I eat early.
I don’t like eating when it gets so late.”
“It will be cold. There’s still a lot of snow hanging
around. The night air is not good for
me.”
“I really don’t like leaving
my place so late at night. And I’m not
at all comfortable coming home even later, after my neighbors are in bed, their
homes dark."
We didn't do the midnight gathering. I’m not remembering if we
took her to breakfast the next morning.
Most likely we did. It’s one of our
favorite ways we celebrate each other’s birthday anniversary.
Until I met Harriet, I never
knew anyone who was born on February 29th. How neat it is to let
her know I think she is as special as her birthday.
Happy Birthday To You,
Harriet! And Many Blessings . . .
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