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Best Seat in the House

Hello my beautiful readers! I hope your February is going wonderful so far! I recently wrote a non-fiction piece about Disneyland for my creative writing class that I thought you'd enjoy. After all, this blog originated as a Disney blog and it's been a while since I posted anything Disney related. So without further ado, I invite you to relax, pull up a chair as I proudly present: my Disneyland story (I really hope you got that Beauty and the Beast reference!).

        Most people visit Disneyland for Space Mountain, Dole Whip, and Mickey Mouse. On this particular November day, I wasn’t most people.

        My sister, Faith, and I arrived forty minutes before the park opened, a once-in-a-lifetime accomplishment. The holiday music loop played in the background, Disneyland birds chirped in the perfectly manicured trees and children sporting Lightning McQueen and Elsa t-shirts excitedly jumped up and down, clutching onto their mother’s hands.

        A silent hush blanketed the crowd as cast members took their positions at the turnstiles. They pushed the gates open, children and adults cheering as the first guests entered the park.

        Within minutes, we were transported to a magical world where adults proudly sported Mickey Mouse ears, the smell of vanilla wafted through the air, and the sound of a train whistle ricocheted off of the pastel colored Main Street buildings.

        My heart swelled, butterflies of excitement fluttering in my stomach. My lips curved into a smile and there was a sudden bounce added to my usual stiff step. My tense demeanor melted away and a carefree attitude took its place. Disneyland was one of the places I could be the outgoing girl I was when I was young, before the real world molded me into the self-conscience woman I’d become.

Faith and I glided down Main Street, strollers and herds of families rushing past us. We sashayed passed Starbucks, the sound of a hard-working espresso machine coming from inside.

        “Look!” Faith exclaimed, excitement seeping from her voice. Following her gaze, I gasped at the sight before me: an open rocking chair on the coveted Main Street porch.

A motorcycle-riding looking gentleman, tattoos up his arms and a long ponytail down his back took up the two seater bench and a woman who looked like she could be one of my grandma’s friends from jazzercise sat in the rocking chair next to him. Faith sat on the vacant wooden chair; I stood behind her, drinking in the sight of Main Street before me.

“You coming in tomorrow for Thanksgiving?” motorcycle dude asked jazzercise lady.

“No, but I wonder what this place will look like on the holiday.”

“Maybe Ollie’s coming in. Thanksgiving is one of the only days I stay home.”

“Speaking of Ollie!” Jazzercise chuckled as a round, friendly-looking older man climbed the three steps and took a seat next to Motorcycle.

“We’ve got visitors,” Ollie declared in a Misters Rogers-esque voice.

         The three porch sitters shifted their gaze to Faith and me, smiling warmly.

“Did you girls run away from home?” Ollie questioned playfully.

I giggled while Faith joked, “That’s right!”

The sitters sat back in their chairs, shifting their attention back towards the bustling street before them. Conversation continued between the three friends, Jazzercise and Motorcycle asking Ollie what his plans were for the holiday.

A custodial cast member who looked about Ollie’s age slid up to the porch, the sitters exchanging hellos.

“Do you notice we’ve got visitors?” Ollie asked as the cast member nodded his head in our direction.“They ran away from home.” Ollie licked his gums, the cast member chuckling before waving goodbye.

Jazzercise stood, swinging her backpack around her shoulders. “Don’t let him scare you off,” she whispered to Faith and I, hooking a thumb towards Ollie. And like that trotted down the steps and merged with the rest of the guests.

I took Jazzercise’s vacant chair, Ollie giving me a thumbs up, “This is valuable real estate. Better take it while you can.”

“Well, I’m going to survey the line at Starbucks,” Motorcycle said, pushing himself up.

A comfortable silence followed. Children’s laughter filled the air. Ollie waved to another cast member across the street then said, “Take a pin, girls.” He extracted two from his pocket, handing them to us. Best Seat in the House it read, a picture of a rocking chair at the center. Contentment rushed over me like a wave, my lips curling into an even bigger smile. “Now you’re honorary members!”

The magic of Disneyland unfolded before my eyes: a horse-drawn street car passing in front of us, elated guests pointing to the castle before them.

Ten minutes later when Faith and I reluctantly stood, Ollie wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion. “Leaving already?”

“We have to meet our parents,” Faith explained.

“Well thanks for sitting with us, girls!”

        Ollie waved as we stepped onto Main Street.

“Have a magical day!” I exclaimed over my shoulder, sure of myself that we had experienced the Disneyland that I had always dreamt of, the Disneyland very few knew existed but the Disneyland that Walt Disney imagined.

I hope you enjoyed that story about the porch on Main Street! The next time you're in Disneyland, do yourself a favor and take a seat if there's an open rocking chair. Have a blessed week!

With Love,

Kirst

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