In the house in which Herself grew up, there was a wonderfully mysterious Front Hall Closet to the left of the main staircase. It held not one, but two, rows of dark, woolly, long adult coats, the second behind the first. The dark wood of the door and the paneling within made the closet a wonderfully soothing place, like the inside of a giant tree. Alas, the children were not allowed to play in the closet, which was a pity, because it was exactly the sort of place where one could have found a doorway to Narnia and had quiet imaginative adventures. Herself would gaze into it longingly on occasion.
One winter, one of the holiday activities of Herself's Brownie Troop was to make a hanging air freshener. An orange was provided, and its skin was pierced with tidy rows of whole cloves. A ribbon was fastened around the middle, so that the clove-decorated fruit could be suspended.
Herself's mother hung the clove orange in the front hall closet. It slowly dessicated, retaining a darkened orange hue in its leathery peel and continuing to exude a faint aroma of cloves. Every time the closet door was opened, Herself would look for it. It was such a pleasure to see her humble handiwork decorating that magical closet.
Even today, the smell of cloves reminds her of the orange and that closet. Some days, especially these difficult days, she would love to be able to crawl behind the coats and enjoy a moment of peace and silence.
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