Scarlet Ribbons
The song came on the radio as she drove to work. Hairs stood up on the back of her neck and tingled down her legs as she drove through the Hill Street intersection and it had nothing to do with the traffic at this notorious trouble spot. The words of the song came back to her as easily as reciting the times tables.
I peeked in to say goodnight
And there I saw my child in prayer.
The memories evoked brought tears. Marie thought wistfully of the relationship she wished she had had with her mother, and that she had dreamt of having with her daughter. Her mother had left, and her daughter was demanding.
“And for me, some scarlet ribbons
Scarlet ribbons for my hair.”
Parking outside the surveyor’s office where she worked, Marie sat in the car until the song had finished. Then she gathered up her handbag and jersey and went on with her day.
All the stores were closed and shuttered
All the streets were dark and bare
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As £10 POMs, (the cost of passage from England on an immigrant ship), moving from the industrial north of England to the small town of Warkworth, Marie and her family couldn’t believe either their luck or their loneliness. It was such a beautiful country. Blue skies; golden sands; green, green fields. Marie’s dad had skills in engineering and the local printing company had sponsored him. He loved his new life. Marie’s younger brother Owen embraced the outdoor life with all the exuberance of a six-year-old.
But Marie’s mother, a woman used to easy access to shoe shops and dress shops, and neighbors to talk to on the street corner, gradually faded to a dull grey. Grey hair, grey clothes, grey skin. She stayed inside most days, afraid to go out in the sun, and wrote numerous letters ‘home’.
In our town, no scarlet ribbons
Scarlet ribbons for her hair
Marie gradually assimilated into her school, making friends and losing the accent. She didn’t mind being teased about the way she spoke. Going to school was her escape. Marie had discovered drama.
At the end of the school year, the pupils held a concert for the parents and townspeople. The girls in Marie’s class were performing a ball dance and her costume was to be a red taffeta dress with a red ribbon sash that her mother was supposed to make. However, two days before the dress rehearsal, there was still no sign of it.
“Mum, have you bought the material yet? I borrowed a pattern from Lynne’s mum, and she said you could borrow her machine as ours hasn’t arrived yet.”
“Alright dear,” Mum said listlessly, “I’ll have a look tomorrow.”
But tomorrow brought no material and no dress, and now it was only a day away from the first show. Marie begged her mother, cajoled her father and wept with disappointment in bed.
Through the night my heart was aching
Then before the dawn was breaking
The dress rehearsal was of course, a complete disaster. Marie’s teacher, the wonderful Miss Pennyfeather, swept around calling words of encouragement.
“And remember, it will all come right on the night. Now, Marie, what are we going to do about you? Can’t have you going on stage in your uniform, can we?”
Lynne’s mum was collecting Lynne from school.
“Maybe I could whip something up for her. I’ve some material left from Lynnie’s dress. It just may not be finished properly.”
“Would you?” cried Miss Pennyfeather. “I’d be so grateful and so would Marie, I’m sure.”
I peeked in and on her bed
In gay profusion lying there
The dress was made, the concert was a success, and her mother even attended.
Lovely ribbons, scarlet ribbons
Scarlet Ribbons for her hair
But by the end of the next year, her mother had moved back to England, while Marie and her brother stayed in Warkworth with their father. The only thing Marie had from that time was a few old vinyl records that she couldn’t play anymore. Record players had been replaced.
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That evening, as Marie made her way home, she hoped that Abbey was in a better mood. What was it about fifteen-year-old girls? Nothing Marie did was good enough, according to her daughter. Marie had sweated and stressed over the dress Abbey was to wear for the choral recital, but Abbey was determined to wear a bought dress, not a tacky home made one. Marie simply didn’t have the money for a new dress and she dreaded the onslaught she knew would take place that evening.
At the front door was a large parcel addressed to Abbey. Marie called out as she slipped off her shoes.
“Abbey? There’s a parcel here for you. From your grandmother. Must be early birthday.”
Abbey clumped into the kitchen. “Hey,” she said. “What’s that about Grandma?”
“Hello to you too, and yes thanks, I had a great day. The parcel is on the TV table. I’ll get the scissors.”
Inside the parcel were two cards, one for Abbey and one for Marie. Abbey folded back layers of pink tissue paper, and held up the most wonderful floaty red ribbon dress.
“Ohh,” they both breathed.
Marie read her card.
Dearest Marie
I seem to remember you were always playing my record ‘Scarlet Ribbons’. I couldn’t do this for you at the time, but maybe you will enjoy it on your daughter
Love Mother
“It’s very stunning, isn’t it? Now you’ve got your dress for the recital that you hoped for.”
Abbey turned to her mother. “I already decided. I’m going to wear the dress you made. Danielle told me I was being a spoilt brat, and she could be right. This dress is amazing, but I’ll keep it for the school ball.”
Her daughter; her tall, beautiful, willful, daughter, so like her grandmother, laid her head on Marie’s shoulder and hugged her.
“Love you, Mum,” she whispered.
“Love you, too,” Marie whispered back.
If I live to be two hundred, I will never know from where
Came those lovely scarlet ribbons, Scarlet ribbons for her hair.
SCARLET RIBBONS (FOR HER HAIR)
Music by EVELYN DANZIG
Words by JACK SEGAL
© 1949 (Renewed) EMI MILLS MUSIC, INC.
All Rights Controlled by EMI MILLS MUSIC, INC. (Publishing) and ALFRED PUBLISHING CO., INC. (Print)
All Rights Reserved Used by Permission
