My memories of Christmas were so deeply formed in my childhood
that I went searching for an echo that would ring true other than
Babes In Toyland.
I had to go very far back, not only in time but in season:
” Summer brought fireflies in swarms,
They lit our evenings like dreams
we thought we couldn’t have.
We caught them in jars, punched
holes, carried them around for days.
Luminous abdomens that when charged
with air turned bright. Imagine!
mere insects carrying such cargo,
magical caravans flickering beneath
low July skies. We chased them, amazed.
The idea! Those tiny bodies
They made reckless traffic,
signaling, neon flashes forever
into the deepening dusk.
They gave us new faith
in the nasty tonics of childhood,
pungent, murky liquids promising
shining eyes, strong teeth, glowing skin,
and we silently vowed to swallow ever after.
What was the secret of light?
We wanted their brilliance:
small fires hovering,
each tiny explosion
the birth of a new world.”
………. SHARON STRANGE
These few days leading to tonight, Christmas Eve,
have been valleys and peaks! A few moments of
uncertainty and anxiety could have marred the anticipation
of family and fun and childhood re-visited.
Maybe through the grace so abundant at this time of open
hearts, maybe just trusting, I was able to reach out and
ask for help, blind for the moment.
Help came, like the summer fireflies, in tiny explosions,
in light, allowing rebirth of my own capacity to be present
to life. That’s really how it seemed!
All homage to this season of light.
with love …