A house-warming of the heart

This was a heart-warming event, an early Valentine just in time to heal community feelings rubbed raw by events of the recent January.  A house ravaged by an accidental fire had been refurbished, like new.  The house-warming was billed as "a house-cooling," no doubt in defiance of the flames.  The weather cooperated.  Hardly had the sun set on the suburban street than snowflakes arrived, the first in a year.  By morning there would be 3 inches of snow on the lawns and streets.  But this evening warmth was the by-word and good cheer was the theme.
Coats and scarves were dragged somewhere upstairs while hosts filled glasses for the stream of arriving guests.  Sliced oranges swam in a cauldron of mulled cider on the kitchen range.  Bowls and plates and trays of food crowded for space on the serving table:  pasta, salads, chips, olives, cakes, cookies.  The never-ending cornicopia emptied onto paper plates. 

The elbowing mob of diners migrated to the sunken living room.  There was just one couple across the dining area, soon joined in conversation by a woman.  I seized the moment to begin a postcard sketch.  I leaned against the doorway leading into the room.  My pen captured one face, then another.  And the front door behind me opened.  In came another couple, then three people, and more.  

My vantage point suddenly was in the midst of a traffic stream shouldering through the narrow hallway to reach the food, the wine, the smiles and greetings.  More subjects for my pen, to be sure.  But more broad backs to block my sight, more jostling to disturb the images I was attempting to commit to paper.  But the sketchpad filled, as they seem to do.

Next morning, I copied the black-and-white sketch into the computer.  I painted the original postcard sketch with watercolors and copied that, as well.  In the process, I realized that few of the faces I had drawn would be recognized by any at the party.  It doesn't seem to matter.  The sketch reminds me of the good time that I had.  It warms my heart, as it, and the party, were intended to do.