Mood:
specialBecky, Elena, and I all went to grade school at St Mary's School, LIC, Queens, in the 1960s. I graduated eighth grade from a public school, IS 61 Q. Anyway, on Christmas Eve, after the service at New Life Fellowship, Becky and I decided to go to the service at St. Mary's Church. We got confused about the starting time, and we took a taxi to get there on time. Once there, Becky decided to invite Ken, too. He and Margie had gone to a service in their own church.
So Becky and I got there in time, and Ken and Margie got there later.
Now the church is having its 140th anniversary, and a church worker named Giovanna has been collecting photos of past decades and putting them up in the church. Among the display set in the 1960s, Ken recognized the photo of Elena's third-grade class with Mrs. Greco--and there she was, eight-year-old Elena seated with her class.
"She managed to show up," I said. It was amazing that, in a way, all four of us were there.
When we told Giovanna the story, she said to us, "You were meant to be here tonight."
We said we would come back someday and help her identify the people in those photographs.
suave
sad
As I hadn't managed to get any cheerleading items into my Operation Christmas Child box, I found another opportunity at, of all places, the funeral home, Martin A. Gleason in Bayside. They had a box collecting toys for a local hospital. Between wake sessions Friday, on my way back from the restaurant, I stopped at a Rite-Aid along the way and picked up a cheerleader doll: African-American, with a blue uniform with a white M on the front.
I'd gone back to the church to participate in the first of that evening's two Advent contempletive services. After that, I bought a Sunday News, went home, then went out to the local Internet cafe. I searched Babes in Toyland at Wikipedia, then searched for the song on Youtube. I couldn't find the lyrics except on pdf of sheet music, so I typed the lyrics up best as I could interpret them. I wept as I listened to the song over and over again.
lazy
I'm going to share the contents of the Operation Christmas Child box I made in tribute to Elena...now, in memory of her. 
blue
down
chillin'
I have to admit: I'm not that great when it comes to dealing with sickness. I saw Elena in the hospital Halloween night, in my Female Joker outfit, before I went down to Greenwich Village. I was going to visit her last Monday, bringing a book I'd found, but I left the office late and the transportation connections were bad. The next day she had a seizure and went into ICU. 
As I did a box in memory of Mom two years ago, now I want to do one in honor of Elena. I know this isn't top priority now, but it's on my mind. I spotted a black cheerleader doll in a local Rite Aid, or I might try to find an Afr-Am cheerleader Barbie. Elena owned a Fashion Barbie, with a brunette, blonde, and red wig, in the early 1960s. She was also a cheerleader in high school and college, as well as a champion disco dancer later on, with Scott as her partner. She has a few secretarial jobs, and later became an elementary school teacher. She was going for her Masters in elem ed in an accelerated program, and was all but finished with her last semester when this third bout of cancer hit.
incredulous
I've been desiring Las Posadas. It's a Mexican tradition, or Latin American, from December 16-24, in which participants walk from door to door re-enacting Joseph and Mary seeking shelter in Bethlehem. I've done it once, about four years ago, on or around my birthday. My siblings and I went to this Hispanic celebration in Manhattan, and a group went out enacting Las Posadas in and around Washington Square Park (or was it Union Square Park?).