First Foot

Fiona Ritchie-Otwell looked out her window at the crisp and even Michigan snow and kneaded her hands.

It was New Year's Day, and the 86-year-old Scottish-American widow was anxious to receive her first visitor of the New Year. Although she had lived in Twin Maples since 1946 when she "came over" as a war bride, Fiona still held to certain customs of her native Scotland'"the most important being her politically incorrect belief that in order to have a good fortune in the New Year, one must be first visited by a male.

Although she had had become something of a feminist herself, Fiona held firmly to this ancient Scottish superstition. And her neighbors in Twin Maples had been all too happy to oblige her whim every New Year's Day by sending over one of their sons to knock on Fiona's door just after the first sunrise of the new year.

It wasn't a bad duty, really, because Fiona always rewarded her first caller'"her first foot'"with a mug of hot cocoa and a hot buttered scone.

For years, this oddly delightful duty had fallen to the Dieterbach boys who lived directly across from the modest home on Maple Street Fiona shared with her husband until cancer claimed him. There were five Dieterbach boys, and each took his turn until he could pass it off to his next younger brother.

The youngest, Danny Dieterbach, had performed the ritual right up to the previous New Year's Day, but then he went away to college in California and didn't come home for the holidays this year. His older brothers were all married and moved away, and Mr. Dieterbach had died five years ago, so there were no males on that side of Maple Street to bring good fortune to Fiona for the New Year.

Fiona sighed and looked to the other houses on her side of the street. There were just two of them, and they were owned by new people'"people she had not had a chance to meet, and people who had not bothered to stop by and introduce themselves.

But Fiona had watched them from behind the curtain in her living room and knew without asking that they were modern people; meaning there was no man of the house in either house, no males period. As far as Fiona could see from her living room, the two houses on her side of Maple Street were owned, or rented for all she knew, by single mothers with daughters.

Fiona bit her lip and thought maybe I'm just a foolish old woman; maybe I should give up this silly old custom; maybe I should get with the times and'"

The doorbell, which was tuned to "Scotland the Brave," announced a visitor.

Fiona gasped and thought aloud, "Who could it be?"

She often thought aloud, and her sole companion, an old tabby cat named Rob Roy, didn't seem to mind a bit. Just so long as there was food in his dish and his litter box was cleaned regularly. Rob Roy was content to let his mistress talk to herself all she wanted.

Fiona hadn't seen anyone come up the walk, so she wondered if she were hearing things.

But then the doorbell replayed "Scotland the Brave," and Fiona was moved by that stirring march to answer the door.

But before she did, she peeked out the little window at the top of the door.

Perhaps Danny Dieterbach had come home from California after all. She had the scones warming in the oven, and the hot cocoa was ready to pour, and'"

There was no one there, as far as Fiona could see.

She was a short woman, so she ran and fetched her footstool and stood upon it and then looked out to see whom her first caller of the New Year was.

There were two callers, actually, and they were "wee bairns," or little children, if you will.

Fiona couldn't tell fore the life of her if they were male or female because they were heavily bundled against the cold.

"Now that's a smart mother," she thought aloud.

But then she worried.

The new children on the street were all girls.

All.

"If this is a pair of wee bonnie lassies on my front step, and I open the door to receive them, then I'll have naught but bad fortune in the New Year," Fiona thought aloud.

Rob Roy stirred and scratched himself against the leg of a chair.

Fiona studied him.

"What are ye telling me, laddie?"

Rob Roy stretched and licked his paws.

Fiona shrugged and stepped down off the footstool. She set it aside, said a short prayer, and opened her front door to receive her first visitor of the New Year.

Two of the most adorable little girls in the entire world stood waiting to greet their neighbor.

The oldest and boldest of the two stepped forward and said, "I'm Eve Manoogian, and this is my sister Jennifer, and we're here to wish you a Happy New Year, and since Mrs. Dieterbach told us you always have to have a boy be your first visitor, we're going to be honorary boys this morning."

And with that Eve Manoogian affixed black paper mustaches to her sister and herself.

She beamed and said, "Now can we come in and have some hot chocolate and those hot buttered stones'"I mean scones'"Mrs. Dieterbach told us about?"

Fiona Ritchie-Otwell didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

So she did both, and then she bid her "male" visitors enter and treated them to hot cocoa, hot buttered scones, and a Scottish song or two.

And, as fate would have it, they all had good fortune throughout the New Year.