|Making a special memory with my granddaughter Rylee at Cinderella|
Cinderella made its appearance on our small black and white television set in the corner of the living room in 1965. I don't remember who all watched that night, but I know there were two girls, sisters, who sat entirely transfixed to that screen and dreaded the moment when the credits would roll. And when they did, my eight-year old sister began to cry. It was over. Long before video cassette recorders came along, before instant gratification was part of our vocabulary, it was understood that there would be a long wait before seeing one's favorite movies again. But she had truly loved this one and the thought of waiting an entire year broke her heart.
In the meantime I bought the piano music and would play while Dawn sang along. And when we knew all the songs by heart, whether it was on a vacation trip or just a short drive up the seven-mile hill to my grandmother's, we would sing them all. Then each year as our anticipation grew for the next showing, we would count down the days, excitement building. And we would watch as if it were the first time, and afterwards Dawn would cry again at the thought of having to once again wait another year.
Cinderella would broadcast eight more times, always in February. I was thirteen years old that first year and in college a thousand miles from home when it finished its long, successful run. I'm sure she watched it every single time. I wonder if she missed my being with her those last few years. I hope so.
|Rylee all dressed up for our evening together|
That's why today as I sat to write about her, missing her as I do, I was curious to know a bit more about the Cinderella that connected us all the more deeply as children and as sisters. When I saw the date of the first broadcast I could hardly believe it: February 22, 1965, fifty-two years ago to the very day.