Do you have a favorite Christmas story? Burnside published one of the most beautiful stories of sacrifices — and irony — I’ve ever read. The O. Henry story, “The Gift of the Magi,” is published with a short introduction by me.
Yiasou!
Stephanie Nikolopoulos is a writer, editor, writing teacher, and speaker based in New York City.
She is the coauthor, with Paul Maher Jr., of "Burning Furiously Beautiful: The True Story of Jack Kerouac's 'On the Road.'"
You can email her at stephanie_701 {@} yahoo.com
“School’s out for summer!” 🎶 June ushers in a sense of unabashed freedom. I think of walking barefoot in the grass, reading paperback novels for the library’s summer reading challenge as the breeze gently lifted the sheer drapes of my balcony window, picking peaches with my family and coming home with too many barrels to eat before the soft fruit began to bruise, laying on a big blanket in Memorial Field and watching the fireworks explode into sizzling colors in the night sky, doing cannonballs and accidental bellyflops into the pool with my cousins, eating Friendly’s Wattamelon Roll, and catching minnows in the brook. I think of not having to wake up at a certain hour, not having to be “on,” not having to be surrounded by people, but rather the bliss and freedom of unscheduled alone time. I think of how summer was the season I could be myself.
When an ocean separates you from your family, you cling to little things to feel closer together. Sometimes that means ordering a frappe from Kafe Neo, the cutest Greek coffee shop in Manhattan, and sitting and talking with a friend about anything and everything, savoring every drop of bittersweet coffee, every word of passionate conversation, just like you would back in the plateia, the town square, in your village back in Greece.
“The summer night was settling upon the neighborhood like a dark lace veil, casting dappled shadows on the roofs and sidewalks and lawns.” ~Victoria Kahler
When you think of Midtown Manhattan, do you think of churches and flowers? Do you think of rebirth and beauty? I passed Saint Patrick’s Cathedral on my walk the other day, amid the hot dog vendors and yellow taxis. On an avenue with window displays designed to capture my attention, it somehow managed to captivate me with wonder.
"Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time."
Growing up, I spent a lot of time in my backyard just staring up at the sky, mesmerized by how green the leaves of trees were against the blue of the sky and how they gently danced in the breeze. It still fills me with wonder to this day. Spending time in nature, not doing anything but observing the world around me, is one of the most splendid ways to spend a day. Perhaps it’s the writer in me. I crave quiet, beauty, awe.
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