"Sabrina: More isn't always better, Linus. Sometimes it's just more."
One
of my favorite scripts is the play Sabrina
Fair by Samuel A. Taylor. Every year, I re-center myself with either the
Bogart/Hepburn/Holden 1954 version or the Ford/Ormond/Kinnear 1995 adaptation.
I don’t over analyze why this play takes a special place in my heart.
Sometimes, things just are a certain
way, and you embrace the enchantment.
When
Julia Ormond’s Sabrina reminds Linus “Sometimes it’s just more”, my soul
resonates. So many people I know have bogged themselves into the quagmire that
more must be better, and spend a tremendously horrendous amount of time,
energy, and funds into pursuing the “Next
Best” while their become entrapped in misery. None of their possessions—houses,
cars, airplanes, boats—matter.
My
best friend from high school died a couple of months ago from early onset Alzheimer’s
while another cherished soul lost her battle with cancer the other day. I
struggle with wishing there had been “more” for them. More time for them to
sing. More time for them to laugh. More time for them to love. More time for
them to be.
Mary Edmondson Poarch
Copyright 2024 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman
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