We never played with the Ouija board. Ever. My parents bought it for us when we were in elementary school, and though we were excited about it, we were also afraid of it. The game remained in the basement, at the bottom of the closet in our playroom. Every once in a while we’d go in and look at it, I presume just to make sure it was still there. Other than that, the box just sat there unused, but it was definitely always on our minds.
"C'mon, gimme lucky number seven!" growled the gambling man as he hastily rattled the dice in his hand, finally releasing them onto the green felted table at the casino. Indeed the number seven has always seemed to be associated with prosperity and good fortune. However, while this man was seemingly calling out for luck, could it have been that he was actually sending a prayer?
I have such fond memories of the huge aloe plant that sat in front of the bay window in the house that I grew up in. I remember my father would break off a piece of a leaf, revealing the gooey, icky slime, and smear it on whatever cut or scrape we had. That aloe plant never seemed to wither and never died, despite its constant use. I did not know then the power that this spiky greenery conveyed. I do now.