Saturday, December 15, 2012

Light

"We find ways to let light in, as many ways as possible. 
We love those near and far, openly and without reserve. We live every day." 
www.carryitforward.com

I was asleep when it happened. When life, as they knew it, changed for people in Newton, CT, for the state, the country. Dare I say, the world?  For what happens to one, happens to all. I wish I'd stayed asleep and never heard the news. Like others I'm horrified. Brokenhearted. Too far away to make a difference. Too connected not to try.


First I cried. 

Then I prayed.
Then I cried some more and hugged my Sweetie and my son.
Then, I do what I do, to stop the pain. I shopped. With no intent other than to block feelings I went to my favorite art supply store and wandered the aisles looking at things I don't need or want. In the midst of people I felt isolated in my own world. In an odd way, the bright colored paper, pens of all description, toys, cards, and ribbons, lit up the darkness. I held my fear at bay. (Tell that to the people at the mall in Oregon.)

The social media sites, TV and radio stations are abuzz. At first I listened, trying to make sense out of the unfathomable, then turned on a Christmas CD.  I needed a reminder of the season of light. Of bright stars in the East, of Hanukkah candles.  


 As I type this, a book lies on the table next to me.  I read it every year at this time. I'm not Jewish, but I don't think I have to be to understand how people look to the light at their darkest hour.  Nine Spoons is based on an "actual incident that occurred in a Nazi camp just before the end of WWII. One of the Holocaust survivors kept the little menorah with her. She came to America in the late 1940's and told this story in an interview." As the first winter snow began to fall, one of the inmates decided to make a menorah for the children out of spoons. Spoons were a very rare commodity and highly valued. In the dreary darkness of the camp, spoons began to appear. A woman who had been an artist before being in the camp twisted their handles into a stem, the round parts bent to hold the flames. Fat was saved from the kitchen and lit by a match from a factory worker.  The light that shone from the spoon must have burned as brightly as the Temple flame in the days of the Maccabees. The women in that camp experienced their own Hanukkah miracle.  For a moment there was light in the darkness. 




 Tonight I'm concentrating on the light instead of the darkness:
Shimmering lights on a Christmas tree
Sunlight dancing on ocean waves
Candle light at midnight mass
Birthday candles on chocolate covered cake
A bride covered in satin and lace
A baby's first tooth
Lilies of the Valley and Queen Anne's Lace
The starry sky over the Grand Canyon
The diamond ring on the finger of one who said, "yes, I'll marry you."
Snow-covered landscapes
A little girl's white furry handwarmer
Polar bears on an ice floe
Flaming baked Alaska
Mounds of whipped cream
A cold glass of milk
A summer's night bonfire on the beach
A string of pearls
A little boy's baseball pants with Scooby-doo undies showing through
Zubin's whole cloth quilt
White sheets on a clothes line flowing in the breeze
An antique Christening dress
The Patty star
The first look at teeth after the braces come off
Tears of joy
Kleenex wrapped around my mother's fingers
An old woman's laugh
Streets lined with luminaries
The Olympic flame
My clean shower door
Glass slippers
Champagne bubbles
Fresh cement waiting for a handprint
Refrigerator art covered in glitter
Mashed potatoes
Mexican wedding cookies
4th of July fireworks
Santa's beard
A big white dog 
White tiger cubs
A full moon
White sand beaches
Homemade vanilla ice cream
A clean page waiting for a story to be told
A hand that reaches down to lift another up
A hug when no words can be found
A friend you can trust
My Sweetie who can always find my keys 
A daughter whose smile brightens any room she's in
A son who fixes things
A sister who calls at the exact moment you're thinking of her
A "VACANCY" sign at a Bethlehem stable and a baby asleep in the hay

You may be the only light another sees. Shine on. 

Merry ME

* Nine Spoons, A Chanukah Story, by Marci Stillerman, Hachai Publishing, 1998

3 comments:

nitebyrd said...

Thank you for sharing the "light". Every single one is welcome at a time like this.

AkasaWolfSong said...

Beloved Sister/Friend...
Thank You for being a shining example of 'The Christed Light'.

Shine On!
(((I Love You!)))

This is a breathtaking post!!!

Mary said...

Your beautiful Light shines brightly, M.