Ukulele Lady

I discovered the miniature guitar case in the basement when I went down to do my morning exercises. I could not resist opening it. Not a guitar, but a ukulele, left by one of my son’s friends. I passed my fingertips across the strings and it sang prettily. The memory of my mother’s old ukulele bobbed up to the surface of my thoughts. I used to love to play it as a child. Just the right size for little hands. In one of the old albums there were pictures of Mom clowning with her dorm mates, playing ukuleles.