Unusual Red

She unlocked the bolted door and danced her way inside passed the Rembrandts towards a large stained glass window. She opened the colorful aperture to welcome in the wind. She hummed and danced while the flowers in their beds arose to unexpected bliss. She caught a glimpse of herself in the hallway mirror. Her wrinkles turned to cheer. An electrical sensation ran from the tips of her toes to her sensitive fingers. It was magical!

The décor of the house was unimportant to her. What she prized was the courage and humility of heart that brought out the best in the beautiful ballerina. Her joy was unlike anything she’d ever known. It was contagious and everything inside ‘er confirmed that this is where she needed to be. She tilted her head back and raised her chin to kiss the vaulted ceiling. She felt silly, yet free like she did when she was young. “This is wild!” she shouted exploding with laughter. Her cry carried to each room dusting off cobwebs from the Rococo-style chandeliers.

She drew out her hands like a bird extending its wings for flight as she walked up a long flight of creaky stairs. She stopped to finger the holes in the walls. She smiled and said, “I know how to heal these.” Quickly she ran up the wooden staircase to the crux of the old house – a deserted red room.

At the top of the stairs along the insecure walls hung forgotten childhood photos accumulating years of dust, which insulated priceless memories. But as she walked down the dungeon-like halls the settled powder raised its lazy head and grew enchanted by her radiant stare. For years the dust slept undisturbed in apathy.

She stopped at the locked door to read the tearful inscription, “Love Lived Here a Long Long Time Ago.” She wept. Her tears poured out like an open faucet cleansing a wound. For the first time in her life she experienced sorrow greater than her own. Quickly she knelt down in front of the red door and prayed. Suddenly, the door slipped out of its painful wedge and opened to the sound of her voice. She arose to push the mahogany rectangle in its quest for freedom.

As she stepped inside the room her eyes became fixed on a throng of birds that chirped outside the bedroom window. Her tiny, feathered friends built a nest on the other side of the murky glass awaiting the day she would break the spell of the invisible force that stood between them and Home. Being her loving self she lifted up the pained glass to set them free. Then something unexpected occurred. She watched the birds enter the room arm-n-arm. In deep felicity the miniature lovers flew like acrobats to the top of the ceiling. Side by side they extended their wings to hold hands as they sang a ballad in her honor. But she was at a loss; she could not understand what called her there.

She said to herself, “This is a dream and I am young again.” Soon thereafter the house shook like a volcano erupting on a pregnant fault.  But she remained calm as the room quelled its tantrum divulging its identity to speak: “Before you were born I chose you. I chose you to live inside Me.”

She looked around, but couldn’t see anyone. Then, the room began to glow. The aroma of compassion supplanted the anxious air. Everything she touched breathed color. The holes in the faded walls were restored! Clocks resumed ticking and the birds settled their harmonious flight to watch her marvel over the power she never knew she always had.

This brave beauty was the heart of kindness for she cared for the lost and lonely more than she cared for herself. That is not to say she found true love; rather, true love found her.

The search was finally over. Since forever she could remember hoping to find a place she could embrace. Irony knocked with bold precision the instant she brought beauty and virtue to an ole abandoned heart. As she let down her guard a smile from heaven kissed her cheek and painted her soul an unusual red. 

Chester Delagneau

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