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Manuscripts

Article Title

Tradition

Abstract

Katherine Schneider Sat in the large, ugly, black leather chair that stood by the parlor window. She touched the worn chair arms with hesitant, reverential fingers. This had been Papa's chair, and now he was gone. All she had left was the square oil portrait so faded from the suns of many years that she could scarcely define the stern lines of his German face.

She lifted her eyes to Papa's picture and saw how stubborn was his chin, how coldly keen were his eyes. He always looked just that same way, she knew. He never changed anything. He never changed the style of his collar, he never changed the cut of his suits, he never changed the way he clipped his stiff little beard, he never changed anything. That was it - he never changed anything. And he wouldn't let her change anything. But life changed around them and they were left years behind the world because Papa wouldn't let her change.

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