Fifty-eight years ago I was gifted with this book on my tenth birthday. It was the first "big" book that was my very own. And I cherished that book, read and reread it so many times it was a miracle it did not fall apart. It was easy for me to identify with Anne for she loved to read, too, and was full of wonder and imagination and adored all of nature's beauty. She was an incurable romantic, something I have been accused of myself throughout my lifetime.
Anne Shirley's exact birthday date is never given in the story but it seems to occur around the time of my own and I always believed when I was a child that we probably shared that birthday. Anne was always yearning for puffed sleeves, lace, and pearls -- and she adored wearing fairy flower wreaths in her flaming red hair, which she wove herself on her way to school or church.
I recently finished reading this book once again and found it as wonderful as it had been to a ten-year old's eyes. My brother and sister and I grew up in what folks today would call a dysfunctional family -- we, of course, did not know of such terminology in those times. My way of dealing with the innumerable crises that arose was to pick up the nearest book and retreat to the farthest corner of our house, then bury my nose in that book.
Anne's fairy wreath is composed of tiny silk flowers with beaded centers and accents. An unfinished freeform peyote pearl bracelet that has languished among my beading projects lies below the stack of books. The dragonfly button with emerald inlay wings is for this month's birthstone.
When I signed up for the Bead Journal Project on May 31st -- my birthday -- last year, I had no inkling of how dear this online group would become to me nor how much I would enjoy and learn from participating in it. It was the best birthday present I could have ever given myself!
So this is my birthday Bead Journal Page -- a thank you to Lucy Maud Montgomery for writing so wonderful a book that a woman can remember it with such fondness.
