Wish Upon a Star

“When you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are. Anything your heart desires, will come to you.” I have a question for you. Did you only read this or did you end up singing it too? I would be surprised if you only read it, for it is such a well-known Disney song. Today, Disney advertisements no longer include the lyrics. Interestingly, the majority of society knows the words and sings along silently in their head to the music. We, as a society, have been raised with imagination and magic thanks to Mr. Disney. This is advertisement at its finest because the music and phrase was so memorable and gave hope to many who dared to dream. Disney, was a genius when it came to innovation. My favorite innovation was the first audio and picture book set for children. Vinyl records provided the audio version of the stories while the colorful pages of the book brought the words and imaginable worlds alive. In this collection, the book was actually a part of the album sleeve so they never got separated. Thinking back on it now as an adult, I loved how convenient and innovative the collection was. Mr. Disney did “Wish upon a star,” and his dreams came true so yes, even I can wish upon those same stars and I let the magic happen.

I feel as though I am in a time warp at this moment. A simple thought of a book, in my case, books, bring back a warm rush of memories. Most readers have a special book that transports them to other places in different times and I had many. Myself, the friendship between this record collection was the corner stone for my basic foundation in literature. Reading and storytelling were blended together to build the love for literature in me. The books were; Cinderella, it’s a small world, Brer Rabbit, Pinocchio, Mary Poppins, Peter Pan, Sleeping Beauty, Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day, Alice in Wonderland, and Snow White became my friends. Being the only child left at home when all the siblings was at school, I was alone a good chunk of the day. Before the books, I was a very lonely child. Being from a poor family, there wasn't much to play with. After the books came into my life, I found a new love and had many happy days and I never really felt alone for my mind was actively participating in stories and my world was filled with excitement. How simple happiness can be, and how amazing it is to have a simple story to take you back into time and transport you to new places.

I remember the day when I met my friends. Mom spent many weekends searching yard sales for cheap clothes for us kids. I really didn’t like going but, if there was no sitter, that meant I had to go. She would always send me to “visit” the toy section so she could shop. You see, I could play with the toys but not take them home. As I wandered around, I found the stack of Disney books sitting on top of a suitcase. There it was, my favorite story, Cinderella. I remember kneeling down and carefully opening the cover. Just as wonderful as the movies, the pictures were, and I sat down on the grass and thumbed through the pictures. Page by page the story jumped out at me. I had seen the movies on Sunday Night Disney night but never in a book form and I sunk into the memory of the movie on T. V. With the book covering my lap, I snuggled right in on the grass and I turned the pages and delved into Cinderella’s world. After a few moments the lady running the yard sale tapped me on the shoulder and startled me back to reality. With a kind smile she said, “Would you like to hear the story too?” Hear the story? I thought she was going to read it to me but no. Instead she became the best magician I had ever seen for she didn't just read them to me, she made them come alive to me. Little did I know, this would be the day when books became magic to me.

I must have been about four at this time so I would have been easily impressed by anything modern. I remember the lady picking up the records and the suitcase that they sat on. “If you want to hear them, we will have to go into the house so we can plug in the record player. “RECORD PLAYER!” scream through my head. The suitcase was a record player? With a glance at mom, and receiving an approving nod, I followed the lady into the house. The blue and white suitcase with gold fasteners held a record player? I watched the ladies’ fingers move to the golden fasteners and watched her unlatch the fasteners. With a flick and a pop of the latch and then another flip and pop, the truth was revealed. Inside the suitcase, a golden turntable appeared. Okay, the turn table was not gold but it was pure gold to my little four-year-old eyes to behold. The lady plugged in the machine, took out the white cord and plugged it in. Like magic, the record appeared out of the back of the book. I didn’t even see the records there before this moment. She said, “Don’t touch the records except the outside rim. Then you place the record on the turntable and line up the hole with the peg so it will stay on. Then we turn it on.” With a click the black vinyl laid there spinning and shining its little lines that glistened off the window’s light. Sparkles glinted off the lines like the stars in the sky. With a smile, she said, “With this magic arm and needle, you will hear the magic too.” She explained how to line up the needle so not to scratch the record and then the magic began. Like any story, we listened to the introduction and the story began. With wide eyes, and I am sure with lots of excitement, I turn the page as the story played on. I was taken and totally awe stricken that such a thing existed.

Little did I know my mother was watching me during the whole exchange. Enraptured in the story and pictures, I didn’t pay any attention to the world around me. In the background, the deals were struck and I headed home with the records and record player in tow. When we got home that day, I ran to my nearly empty room to listen to the stories. Hours after hours I discovered the magic of my new friends. While mom cooked dinner and cleaned the house, I was safely tucked into my room busy listening and reading. I was in heaven. This world was my own. Mom would often pop in with a snack or just to check in because I was stuck like glue to those darn things. I only left them when I had to but that wasn’t often. I believe my mother could see that this was the turning point in my love for books.

Mom, was a hard-working woman. She cared for her large family and kept odd jobs to help support us. In the summer, she would clean summer homes for the out-of-town people. Often, she would wake me up, give me breakfast, and off we would go to clean. One morning, mom gave me a surprise. Over the night, she had stitched me a backpack that would fit all of the records. The backpack was baby blue to match the record player. I believe it was something like a heavy cotton sack, with corded shoulder straps, and there was a huge button to close the bag. Mom saw the happiness in my face as she handed it to me with a smile and said, “Go and get your records packed up so we can go to work.” I remember looking back to her and yelling a big, “THANK YOU” as I ran up the stairs. I remember seeing her beam with happiness too as she shewed me up the stairs. Off I went and quickly packed up my treasures and my record player. When I got down stairs, Mom showed me how to wear the bag and we climbed into to taxi and off to work I went with my mother.

Bayview, Michigan is a summer resort area where people from all over would come and stay for the summer. Mom took care of many homes in this area and I went along with her many times. Before the books, I would take toys or just patiently wait for my mother to finish work and I found life very mundane. With the new records, my life was no longer boring. I couldn’t wait to go to work with her. The taxi pulled up to my favorite house. In the house, there were many places to hide in or to sit in the sun and color. As I jumped out of the taxi, I waved goodbye to our friend, I then began to plot out the perfect spot in which to spend my time. Seeing that I had been in the houses many times, I knew where the best snuggling spots were but did those spots have a plug close enough? My favorite place was a window reading nook. You could imagine the happiness I felt to find a plug there. I quickly unpacked the bag and settled in. There were pillows to snuggle and a brown forgotten teddy bear who sat there pouting in the sun. Jamison the bear insisted on joining my reading circle whenever I came there. The sun warmed us and Jameson and I gawked at the lit up pictures and listened intently to the story. At some point of the afternoon, Jamison and I drifted off to sleep to whatever story was on the turntable. The other homes were not so nice so I made due and snuggled in to places where plugs were placed. Mom worked many hours cleaning but I really did not mind because I was happy. Each time we went out to clean, I looked forward to the silence and I loved it because it felt like a vacation from home.

What is the saying, “Old friends may go a long time without talking, but when they do, it’s like nothing changes?” The backpack didn’t last long and fell apart due to the aging process and the record player gave up the ghost after my teen punk years. Yet, the records and book remain in my hope chest. I find it interesting that they have been preserved and avoided all the purging I have done throughout the years. This is a testament of how important this collection was to my happiness. Upon researching the internet, trying to find information about said records, I decided to go to my storage unit and retrieve them. One by one my friends emerged, slightly dusty, well loved, crayon marks were forgotten on covers, and a few pages are missing from the books. What can I say? This was a well-loved collection. This was so well loved that I wouldn’t be able to sell them. Nor, would I sell them. That would be an act of betrayal. After 50 years, I am tempted to buy a record player so I can commune with my old friends again. I am sure that I would be transported back to the time when we played for the years apart wouldn’t make any difference to the happiness we could share again.

Magic, was Mr. Disney’s specialty. He gave me a magical life as I was growing up. I wished upon the stars as often and I could which was probably often. In Northern Michigan, the stars shine brightly, so I could spend the night making wishes galore on the night sky. I do not remember my wishes, but I do know that each wish was a piece of hope to hold on to. As an adult, I still make wishes upon a star late at night. Yes, sometimes those wishes do come true. So tonight, as the first star shines, make a wish. For, after all, “When you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are. Anything your heart desires, will come to you.” Just like Disney magic.