I remember the first time I met her. She called herself “a fan” of my column and that’s why she reached out to me.

A few years ago, I wrote about my Department 56 villages and the wonder of all those tiny houses with twinkling lights at Christmas time. Shortly after it ran, I received a charming invitation to attend an open house celebration sponsored by the Magnolia 56ers Club here in Mississippi.

The signature caught my attention right away — “Pink.” I had always known it as a color, never a person’s name.

Before I could even respond, my phone rang, and Pink began telling me, quite charismatically, about her love of little houses that light up.

It was a sad year for me because my mama had been diagnosed with cancer. Instead of thinking of a dozen reasons to decline the invitation, I prettied Mama up in the jolliest of Christmas ensembles, gave her a pain pill, and off to the party we went.

We arrived at the address a few minutes early. Mama put on another coat of lipstick, while Peggy (my mother-in-love, as she liked to put it) kept us on time from the backseat. A few minutes later, lights whirled across the rear view mirror, a vehicle parked behind us on the street, and a boisterous lady swung her car door open with a grin that lit up the entire street.

Pink had arrived! Mama talked about that night for years to come.

It was always like that with my new friend.

She made everyone’s day a little brighter with her child-like enthusiasm, something most of us have lost along the way. No one loved a themed get-to-together more than Pink. Whether it was Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, or just an ordinary Saturday, Pink Mize gave it a purpose and made it extraordinary.

She would go away to Department 56 conventions with collector friends; then she would come home and tell us of the splendid time she had hot-gluing miniature trees onto cardboard or discovering new ways to use peppermint candies to make sidewalks.

She reminded me what it’s like to be a kid again, even when sometimes that isn’t easy, and I will never forget the look in her eyes over the simplest things — a new addition to her Snow Village collection, winning the door prize at a club meeting, or 12 new ways to use gumdrops in a village scene.

When I remember you, Pink, I will always see your village lights turned on. You are a reminder to us that we should create a vignette wherever we are in life, dusting a bit of make-believe snow and a sprinkling of glitter with each step, just like you did.

Pink moved to a very different village earlier this month, and I miss her.

 

David Creel is a Vicksburg resident and a syndicated columnist. You may reach him at beutifulwithdavid.com.