I have endeavoured in this Ghostly little book, to raise the Ghost of an Idea, which shall not put my readers out of humour with themselves, with each other, with the season, or with me. May it haunt their houses pleasantly, and no one wish to lay it.
Their faithful Friend and Servant, C. D.
December, 1843.
It's almost like the message written inside a Christmas card from some distant cousin or college roommate. The sentiment of good will is pretty evident. I sort of wonder what "Ghost of an Idea" Dickens is referring to. It probably has something to do with human compassion and generosity. Those qualities permeate the entire book. Or it could simply have something to do with Dickens wanting to make all his readers feel warm and fuzzy and happy.
My Ghost of an Idea for today is simply to survive. This evening is my daughter's dance recital. Therefore, I'm spending the entire day with her in a dark auditorium as she rehearses. I've done this every year since she was five. She is now eleven years old. If you do the math, that amounts to around 72 hours, or three days, of my life.
To tell the truth, I really don't mind it. It does sort of feel like the wind up to Christmas day. My daughter goes to her dance studio every night of the week leading up to the recital. She puts on her costumes. She gets her hair done and her face made up. It's exciting. It's stressful. It's expensive (we go out to eat a lot during rehearsal week).
Well, now it's Christmas Eve, and all the Sugar Plum Fairies are in their places. Let the curtain rise.
Your faithful Friend and Servant, S. M.
June, 2012.
Confessions of Saint Marty
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