I have a red carpet. It's 50 feet long and 3 feet wide, bound on the edges, heavy to carry and bulky to store. It's a well made, deep red, never say die piece of woven fibers, and I love it. Everyone should have a red carpet, or at the very least know someone who has one, so they can appropriately celebrate those red carpet moments in their lives.
We all have them; red carpet moments.
Two weeks ago Johnny came over to borrow the runner du rouge for Sophie's 9th Birthday party. He unrolled it at his front door, it's long slender stream fit perfectly on his front porch, draping down over the steps and into the driveway. He also borrowed the shepherd crooks too, stabbed them into the ground and strung Christmas lights along the edges of the carpet, turning it into a runway. Sophie's friends arrived in their most glamorous attire, right at dusk when sparkling lights began to twinkle, and each made a grand and glorious entrance to the celebration.
Last month Annie borrowed the carpet for her Young Womens' Evening of Excellence. She also borrowed the fabric chair covers we use at her wedding. We had stood on that same carpet for Annie's wedding reception, several years and one adorable baby ago. On a warm August night w stood outdoors, in front of the rose covered lanai, Annie's lovely champagne colored wedding dress glittering against the brilliance of the red. The contrast was striking.
We used it also for Gardner family celebrations; for Jason and Erica's lovely garden reception on that perfect summer day, and for Ali's wedding on a brisk autumn afternoon. Cindy had lined the edges of it with deep green magnolia leaves, and the little ones walked before the stunning bride with colorful autumn leaves dropping on the padded surface. David stood at the end of the carpet, all judicial and loving, and pronounced them husband and wife.
When we arrived home from Hong Kong with our missionary daughter, Kate, my mom and sisters and Kate's siblings had rolled out the trusty red carpet. The shepherd crooks held oriental lanterns, and the carpet led to the front door of our home.
I think of it now and I wonder why in the world we did not use the red carpet for our mother's funeral. I suppose shock and grief throw us off of our normal trains of thought. It would have been perfect, don't you think? Red is best! Maybe God has one and he rolled it out on the other side, welcoming her home like we welcomed our Kate.
I thrill at the thought of other occasions that will call for our good old red carpet. It's not that big a deal, just a little statement that says "You are special!" Some people use red plates. We use red rugs.
I do love my red carpet.
On second thought, I guess it's not the carpet I love. It's the people who walk on it.