Mimosas in the Spring

It was spring in Houston, Texas. I sat on the patio at my Yiayia’s house on Willard Street in the Montrose area. Yiayia means grandmother in Greek. Fat green grapes hung from the arbor above me. The vines were entwined in the latticework, and the big flat green leaves shaded me from Houston’s already blistering heat and humidity. I followed Yiayia outside and watched as she selected only the best grape leaves. She took them inside to wash and prepare them for one of my favorite dishes, dolmades (grape leaves stuffed with seasoned meat and rice) and drenched in avgolemono (egg and lemon sauce).

I remained outside in the backyard to play, and to stay out of Yiayia’s way. If I was very, very good, she would call me in later for a nap. Yiayia always let me climb into her bed while she took down her long gray braids. She wore them wrapped around her head. Once her hair was loose, she carefully brushed it – 100 strokes. Even then I could tell that she was once a beautiful lady who took pride in what used to be her thick, long dark hair. And while she ran the brush through her hair, she told the best stories! She spoke very little English, but even at five years old, I was able to understand her wonderful Greek tales, like the one about Anthousa, Xanthousa, Chrisomalousa (all of which were the beautiful damsel’s names), and the three magic gifts, two combs and a scarf! I recognized this tale years later as an early form of Rapunzel. The last time I stayed with her, she told a story about two sisters who hated their beautiful and kind sister, Mirsina. I was enthralled by listening to her tell about the two evil sisters who tricked Mirsina and abandoned her. But Mirsina found refuge with 12 brothers who were each named for one of the 12 months. As with most fairy tales, the evil sisters failed but the beautiful sister who was kind and loving lived happily ever after. I loved that story. Yiayia always started each story with the phrase, “Mia pho-rah keh ehnan ger-oh.” It was the equivalent of “Once upon a time.” By the time Yiayia had finished a story, we were both ready for a relaxing nap. No one could tell stories like Yiayia. It was sublime to lay in her soft bed listening to her speaking in Greek, carrying us both off to sweet dreams.

A little bored, I walked out into the yard. The thick St. Augustine grass had been freshly mowed. Toward the back fence there were several trees, a fig tree, a pear tree, and a Mimosa tree. I lay down in the grass under the Mimosa. Not only was it a good climbing tree, but it covered me with cool shade. When the wind blew, the pink and white mimosa flowers floated down as if little fairies were fluttering down around me. The pink and white puffs smelled like candy.

I could hear my older brothers in the front yard yelling and shooting their cap guns at each other. They didn’t like it when I tried to play with them, so I stayed put, hoping they would leave me alone. Any time the boys started shouting, Yiayia was sure to run out shaking her big wooden cane fussing at them in Greek.

“Come here! I am going to spank you with my mon-goú-dah (cane)!” She yelled other things but I didn’t always catch everything she said at those times. The boys were too fast for her! They scooted under the house to hide, giggling as she stamped back into the house. Usually, by the time supper was ready, Yiayia would have already forgiven them.

I wore my favorite dress that day. It was white with a full skirt with blueish-purple grapes and leafy vines circling the waist. The same design was repeated around the bottom of the skirt. My mother made one for herself and one for me! I thought we looked like twins! I also wore my shiny patent-leather Maryjane shoes with white ruffled socks. I dressed up because going to Yiayia’s house was special. More pink and white fairies floated down, and I pretended they were powder puffs. They tickled my nose.

Suddenly my brothers crawled out from under the house crashing my solitude. They ran to the very back of the yard where climbing roses grew on the chain link fence. Pete began stuffing roses into his mouth. Steve shouted loudly at our older brother Pete, “Don’t eat those! Don’t eat those! They’re poison!” But Pete kept plucking the roses off the fence and stuffing them in his mouth. “They’re good! They’re not poison!”

Warily, I walked over to them saying, “You better stop or you’re going to get in big trouble with Yiayia!” But Pete looked so silly with rose petals sticking out of his mouth that we all started laughing.

“Hey!” Steve said suddenly, “I see pears on the pear tree!”

“Where, Where?” Pete asked, “I don’t see any.”

“Up on the top!” Steve said excitedly.

While they were looking up trying to see how many pears were there, I thought it was extremely gross that Pete would eat anything that he found growing out in the yard! Pete ate bugs, doggie biscuits, and just about anything to make us either laugh or scream in disgust. I was glad there wasn’t a pomegranate bush like we had at home, or he would have taken a large bite out of one, sucked the juice, and then spit the seeds at me.

“Those branches aren’t going to hold us to climb up,” Pete said.

“Maybe Yiayia has a ladder!” Steve said.

“Naaah! By the next time we come, there will probably be more pears on the lower branches.”

Steve shrugged, “Nothing to do here. Let’s go play ball.” They left me alone. I didn’t follow because they never wanted to play with me voluntarily. Anyway, they would probably get me in trouble.

They ran back around to the front yard, and soon I could hear the ball bouncing. I checked my dress, brushed off the mimosa flowers and the grass, and tried to look behind me to be sure there were no grass stains on my pretty dress. Just then, I heard the boys laughing, I ran around to see what was happening. Mom and Dad had just driven up the driveway. I saw that the ball had bounced across the street, unnoticed. My brothers were looking away toward my parents when I made a break for the ball. I shot across the street without thinking to look both ways. As I got to the middle of the road, I felt something hit me! The force knocked me down on my bottom and sent me spinning around and around and skidding about five feet away to the curb! A lady driving a Studebaker had hit me.

Everyone ran towards me. I was stunned and remained next to the curb where I landed. Mom pulled me up frantically feeling my legs and arms. My brothers were laughing hysterically. The lady who was driving the Studebaker, pulled over and was apologizing while my Dad and Yiayia simultaneously yelled at the boys to be quiet. I was promptly stuffed into my parents car and driven to St. Joseph’s Hospital Emergency Room, where a doctor checked me out. I remember one of the nice nuns gave me a beautiful Easter egg. Once the doctor pronounced me miraculously unharmed, I was taken back to the car, and all the way back to Yiayia’s house, they lectured me on how to cross the street, both of them simultaneously, Mom in Greek and Dad in English.

It felt like a very long ride from the hospital back to Yiayia’s house. I was worried that Pete and Steve would start laughing again and that Yiayia would take a turn fussing at me, which is just what she did.

“Maria! Every time you come my house, you make trouble!” she scolded. When I teared up, Yiayia relented and gave me a big hug and kiss. Although, it was her custom to feed the men and boys first, Yiayia filled my plate with dolmades and spaghetti before everyone else! My brothers immediately complained, “No fair!” But a stern look from Daddy shushed them. As always, we prayed before eating.

After supper, Yiayia brought out a bowl of big, ripe pears.

“Yiayia!” Pete shouted, “Where did the pears come from?”

“What you think?” Yiayia said, “I pick them from my tree!”

Daddy gave Pete a pretend slap upside his head.

When it was time to go, I whined a little, “I didn’t get my story!”

“Don’t worry,” Yiayia said gently. “Next time, I tell you two stories!”