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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.
| In the light of the silvery moon... |
| 12.14.04 (11:29 am) [edit] |
|
Early this fall they began to cut down the huge old maple trees along Third Street. The trees, which graced this street for many years before it was a street, made the light dance in summer and their immense branches formed a tunnel of leaves towering over the street below. In the autumn they provided a spectacle of color that would take your breath away. But, they are gone now. Victims of a sewer project. It appears as if a nuclear bomb went off and for a while every time I looked down the street I got a sick feeling in my stomach. Last night, however, I happened to look out my bedroom window and saw an unfamiliar glow resting on the snow. Three houses in a row, were adorned in various styles of Christmas lights and for whatever reason, it made me smile. And, as silly as it sounds, it gave me a sense of hope. In the house directly across from me, lives a widow named Marge and her dog Lil’ Bit. Marge can barely walk and has a long list of critical ailments, including diabetes and heart disease. She lost her husband three years ago, which is when Lil’ Bit came to live. In the summer Marge can be found day after day, reading on her front porch. For several weeks, though, I hadn’t seen any activity and I worried that perhaps something had happened. But now, as I looked out my window, I saw hundreds of tiny lights wrapped around Marge’s porch and railing. Not only did I know that she was alright, but I knew that every time she looked out the window she would feel the same sense of warmth, celebration and hope that I did. For some reason, there is hope in light. The houses to the left of Marge were also decorated. Before the trees were cut down I could barely even see these houses and I never saw any signs of life coming from inside of them… rarely even a light. Now, however, the glow of holiday lights radiated out and over the snow. "Barns burnt down, now I can see the moon". That is what I thought about when I looked at the lights shining from the houses across the street. It is a quote I have hanging on my refrigerator by a Japanese poet named Masahide. If I have learned nothing else in three years, I have learned that it is much easier to focus on the loss of the barn than to celebrate the glow of the moon. In life, it takes less effort to get swept away by the hurt, disappointment, and seeming unfairness than it is to start stripping away the sadness and begin to search for the ray of light that most certainly exists. Somewhere. Behind the barn, behind the trees, behind the pain there is a bigger picture… in a smaller package. Ultimately, by focusing in on the things that shine through after everything else is gone, we are able to discover what is truly important. For many of us though, by the time we discover it… it is often too late. When we lived in our big house with the 14 ft. Christmas tree and a pile of presents that extended for yards… there was always a degree of hollowness to Christmas morning. A few years later, when I had no money and could barely scrape up enough to buy the girls even a few small presents… for the first time, I saw them truly grateful. After Christmases overshadowed by loss, illness and pain, what shined through was the fact that we were together. We all have people that we love, but rarely do we understand the degree of preciousness in those relationships… or the precious nature of time. That Christmas, the presents were an afterthought… the gift was in discovering the gift in each other. It’s not that the big house, the big tree, or the big presents are bad things… they were just the barn blocking the view of the moon. I guess that’s why I love Christmas. It is the story of the bigger picture found in a smaller package. It is about a group of very lucky people who in the middle of their every day lives, laid everything aside and followed a bright and pervasive light that cut through the darkness. In the middle of chaos, behind the barn, behind the trees, and behind the pain, they followed a star that took them to a cold, damp cave where a little baby lay in a feed trough. For 2,000 years that has been the light that shines through after everything else is gone. The baby’s message was simple. Love each other. Look past the barn. There is a reason that we find hope in the light... whether it is the guiding light of a star, the beams of a moon once hidden from view, or the soft glow of Christmas lights resting on the snow. |
posted by: JAS (reply)
post date: 12.14.04 (10:05 am)
Your amazing!
posted by: billlyryan (reply)
post date: 12.14.04 (2:35 pm)
I just sigh when I read your blog.
posted by: Sue in Toledo (reply)
post date: 12.15.04 (5:15 am)
Beautiful! The perfect message for this time of year. I enjoyed it very much. It made me sit back and refocus.
posted by: LoriSchuster (reply)
post date: 12.15.04 (1:55 pm)
Reply to: JAS
Thanks mom... good genes I guess :) Love you.
posted by: LoriSchuster (reply)
post date: 12.15.04 (1:57 pm)
Reply to: billlyryan
Thank you again. I wrote you a really long t-mail... I am so damned wordy--not to mention a first-born-feel-the-need-to-throw-
my-two-cents-in-on-every-occasion kind of person... sorry. Too much caffeine! Glad you stopped by :)
posted by: LoriSchuster (reply)
post date: 12.15.04 (1:58 pm)
Reply to: Sue
Thanks Sue... your comments always make me smile. I hope that you guys have a wonderful Christmas!
Grace, beauty, humor, strength.
Alison Haley Cloud
Nov. 16, 1987-March 1, 2005
