Tuesday, December 15, 2009

The festival of lights

In speech as well as in physical space they never stop moving. She wants and she said and she needs and she wants and Mama, listen! and she took and she won't hold my hand and where is my? from the moment I am seen in daycare through packing their bags, securing their snacks, last-minute potty stops. jacket, jacket, zip, zip, I don't want zips!, hold my hand, can you please carry your own bag? stop at the tree! okay, just hurry, yes, I'll open your door, yes you can climb in that door, she's climbing in my door!, I don't want to wear my jacket in the car, open my strawberries, Mommy!, my strawberries fell! I want strawberries!, a fire truck? where do you think the fire truck is going? what's that sound? is Daddy home? no, Daddy's not home, is Daddy behind us? no, Daddy's not behind us, I want strawberries, can I take my straps off now? I want to open the door!, it's dark in there! can you turn on the lights? I take off my shoes by myself!

And we light the candles.
Briefly, oh so briefly, they're quiet.
They're still.

We sing the blessings.
We sing the songs.
Even with the lure of gifts on the table, they're entranced.


But fire, though powerful, holds no magic.
Inevitably, they start moving again.

And with moving,
comes more talking.

And minute by minute, on we go.

But there's no denying that for a moment,
everything was quiet.
Everyone was still. Pin It