Welcome to “Dear Daybreak”, a new, occasional Daybreak column. It features short vignettes about life in the Upper Valley: an encounter, some wry exchange with a stranger or acquaintance… Anything that happened in this region or relates to it and strikes a contributor as interesting or funny or poignant—or that makes us appreciate living here. One request right now: No more poems for a few weeks, please—the larder’s full at the moment.
Dear Daybreak:
There's never a time of year I feel more like I belong here than now, when we fill our yard with skeletons and pumpkins and the neighbors are inspired to play along. The air is crisp. The leaves are changing. We're putting the garden to bed. Gathering our apples. Delighting in our good fortune to be here, now.
— Olivia Piepmeier, Strafford
Dear Daybreak:
My friend Michelle and I organize a Story Circle in White River Junction that we advertise as a way to “build community” and “get to know your neighbors.” Everyone in the Upper Valley is welcome. We sit in a circle and everyone can take a turn to tell a true, personal story.
On a recent Thursday, we had a nice gathering of around 12 people. Some were regulars, some had joined for the first time, and some walked in by chance and decided to stay when we explained what we were doing.
The first person to tell a story recounted an incident from when she was a young nurse at the beginning of a long career working at various hospitals in the Upper Valley. A few turns later, one of the newcomers said she too had a story. She recounted how lost she had felt when, 27 years ago, she gave birth to her first child. The baby had come three weeks early and she felt overwhelmed by the responsibilities of motherhood as she lay in the hospital with her newborn. Fortunately, the nurse who was in charge took her under her wing: She taught her how to breastfeed, how to take care of the baby, and sent away visitors when the new mother needed some rest.
“She made me feel I could do it,” the storyteller said and added that this nurse, to this day, holds a special place in her heart. In fact, she had been so grateful that she sent the nurse a letter to tell her how much her support had meant to her. Knowing that the nurse liked to run in the woods, she also included, as a token of appreciation, an orange running vest, to keep her safe during hunting season.
“Wait..,“ we suddenly heard from across the circle. “I once got a vest like that! Wait… am I that nurse?”
She was!
The story ended with an embrace. No eyes remained dry.
— Judith Hertog, Norwich
Dear Daybreak:
Recently, my husband and I traveled to the Dolomites in Italy. Our plan was to complete a hut-to-hut hike along the Alta Via 2 in celebration of a friend’s 30th birthday.
We arrived in a little town called Badia, where we’d spend the night before setting off on our hike. The town looked straight out of The Sound of Music: lush green hills flanked by jagged peaks, whitewashed chalets decorated with window boxes of pink and purple flowers.
That evening, my husband and I perused the salad bar at our hotel. The man in line behind us asked where we were from.