La Kleptomanie de l’Ame
At seven I was crazy about my new friend Diane’s mother, my ideal. I wanted to be near Mrs. Harris every minute. In fact I wanted a piece of her for my very own. One day when she was upstairs sewing and where was Diane?….I found myself alone in the Harris living room. Stealthily I climbed up on the chair in front of their secretary desk and opened the glass cabinets upon three little alabaster angels with musical instruments. I reached inside, helped myself to the one with a violin, climbed down silently and ran out the front door, down the street to my own house. Mother greeted me, flushed, at the door. “Mrs. Harris gave this to me,” I said solemnly. Mother, dubious, called the Harris household. “Helen, did you give Julie this little angel she has come home with?” Mrs. Harris gave a chuckle. ‘I guess Julie just wanted to borrow that figurine a while.” Nothing more was said. Somehow the angel was returned. I never missed it. My talisman had done what I needed it to do.
A sept ans j’adorais la maman de ma nouvelle amie Diane. Mon idéale, je voulais être près de Mrs. Harris constamment. En fait, je voulais posséder un petit morceau d’elle. Un jour où elle était en haut cousant, je me suis trouvée toute seule dans le salon des Harris. (Où était Diane?) J’ai grimpé sur une chaise devant un secrétaire où se trouvaient 3 petits anges d’alabâtre avec instruments musicaux. J’ai ouvert les portes vitrées pour saisir un de trois avec un violon, je suis descendue silencieusement , je suis partie vite en courant pour rentrer dans ma propre maison. Maman m’a acceuillie à la porte, rougie de culpabilité. “Mrs. Harris m’a présenté cet ange,” j’ai annoncé solennellement. Ma mère, douteuse, a donné un coup d’appel à Mrs.. Harris. “Helen, avez-vous donné le petit ange à Julie, qu’elle tient dans sa main, comme cadeau?” Mrs. Harris a ri. “Je crois que Julie veut tout simplement emprunter ce petit ange un peu.” Rien de plus n’était dit. L’ange, rendu, ne me manquait pas. L’acquisition de mon talisman a achevé son but.
8 thoughts on “Kleptomania of the Soul”
I have a gold angel nearly identical to your candleholder, given to me by my in-laws and one of my favorite things to bring out at Christmas.
You’ve reminded me of the strong memories I have of several of my friends’ mothers, in my early childhood especially. As I think about it, these women who were sort of like adjunct or sometimes-foster mothers would of course be psychologically very important. It makes me wonder if I made some kind of impression on any of my own children’s friends. Mrs. Harris’s response in your story shows why you would be attached to her.
What a kind and understanding woman Mrs. Harris was! This is a delightful anecdote from which we learn kindness, generosity and understanding.
You picked up the essential, Anne……the way this all turned out probably nipped any
need I had to “steal” anything further, and shows why I found Mrs. Harris an ideal human being,
even at age 7! Children intuit character very early on….
That’s a lovely story Julie. Mrs Harris was clearly a wonderful person. I once stole a chocolate bar from a convenience store as a child. I got away with it. But then I felt so guilty I fessed up to my mum while balling my eyes out. That was after I ate it of course. 😂 Instead of getting angry my mum embraced me. She talked to me about it. Then we went back to the store. I apologised to the owner and paid for the chocolate. I learnt a lot about the importance of honesty and forgiveness that day. But also the true cost of deceit. I look forward to reading more of your stories Julie. Wishing you well 🙏
This is a fun reply, AP2…(your name?) You got more of an ‘object lesson’ out of your stolen candy bar
than I did from the angel. Yours was a sort of talisman too, sweet treat. I love that you ate it first. ; )
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Hey Julie – I replied to your last comment explaining why I write under a pseudonym. For political/professional reasons – Sometimes I write about politics but also prior history with depression which is fairly taboo in my line of work (I’m a pilot living in Hong Kong). Feel free to contact me at firstname.lastname@example.org anytime for anything – I’d be happy to disclose it personally there. Wishing you well 🙏
I remember that desire quite well as a child to have something that didn’t belong to me. For me, when I was 4 or 5, I “stole” one of those fake cardboard credit cards they put in wallets. I wanted it so badly, then I was appalled with myself and terrified someone would find out.
Again, love your ability to tell a whole vivid story with so few words
Thank you again, Alexis….maybe I shouldn’t fuss over whether someone has genuinely found my blog, or been
‘driven’ to it by WordPress…what’s the diff, if someone likes it!
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