

Taibhsearachd means 'second sight' in Gaelic. This blog is a vehicle for me to take a second look at events and people around me, and give second thought to the way I live my life.
Typically on this night I go for a walk in the woods with a candle-lit lantern. But it's really gusty here tonight, so that was out. For the same reason, Plan B was also out...dusting off the advent garden and decorating it with candles - one for each person who's close to me who's passed on. Enter Plan C: light the candles in a darkened livingroom instead.
Not sure if this attracted any spirits: if it did, there must have been quite a crowd in the house tonight.
Yesterday's posting has me thinking more about memory, and what a wonderful thing it is. Just think what our lives would be like without our memories. We'd only get to enjoy things once, and never have a chance to re-live them again. I'm reminded of a book that Lucca gave my kids many years ago. It's called Wilfrid Gordon McDonald Partridge, and is about a boy who has lots of friends in an old folks home. One of his closest friends is Miss Nancy Alison Delacourt Cooper. Miss Nancy has lost her memory, and Wilfrid is determined to discover what memories are so he can get her's back for her. He asks all kinds of people to explain the meaning of memories. His father said it's something you remember. Mrs. Jordan who played the organ said it's something warm. Mr. Hosking who told scary stories said it's something from long ago. Mr. Tippett who was crazy about cricket said it's something that makes you cry. Miss Mitchell who walks with a wooden stick said it's something that makes you laugh. And Mr. Drysdale who had a voice like a giant said it's something as precious as gold. Based on all this, Wilfrid gathered together a box of things and brought them to Miss Nancy. At first she thought this collection was rather odd. But then she began to remember. She held a warm egg and told Wilfrid about the tiny speckled blue egg she had once found in a bird's nest in her aunt's garden. She put a shell to her ear and remembered going to the beach by tram long ago and how hot she had felt in her button-up boots. She touched Wilfrid's grandfather's war medal and talked sadly of her big brother who had gone off to war and never returned. She smiled at a puppet on strings and remembered the one she had shown to her sister, and how she had laughed with a mouth full of porridge. She bounced a football to Wilfrid and remembered the day she had met him, and all the secrets they had shared. And the two of them smiled and smiled because Miss Nancy's memory had been found again. |
My bus this morning was all decked out for Christmas. I suspect it's the bus they will use for the city's annual Christmas Lights tour. Hank Karr, who is a musician/songwriter when he's not driving bus, devotes an evening to taking folks all around town to see the light displays. It's a ritual that I don't think many people partake in any more. When I was a kid, that annual drive with my parents was like magic. Today, it fails to impress most youngsters.
In fact, it's pretty darned hard to impress these days. Kids have so much that it's almost impossible to find something that will register on the 'special' scale with them. For example, when Iris and I were in Argentina earlier this year, I purchased what I thought was a lovely Noah's Ark, hand made by a woman who was struggling to make ends meet. I appreciated the care she put into her work, and thought my nieces would like it. However their reaction when I gave it to them was ho-hum, and two minutes later I had to rescue it from the floor where it had been left for someone to bump into and break.
This Christmas I've sent these same nieces a whole manger scene, all hand made. But I doubt they'll appreciate that either. I really am at a loss as to what to give them that will have any meaning for them. It's sad really. I don't blame the kids so much as I blame our society. Somehow, the Western world's excess, instead of enriching our lives, has led to poverty...poverty of spirit, of simple pleasures, and of special moments and memories.
Hmmm, aren't I the cynical one this morning!
This is by the same author as 'The Story of the Root Children', which is a children's classic. In this story, Poppy (the little girl) is looking out her window when she sees that the falling snowflakes are actually little Snow Children. They take her away to the Snow Queen's wintry kingdom for an adventure.
And finally, this one, that reminds us that for everything there is a season. It tells the story of what happens one year when Winter won't wake up. The tired trees need to rest. Their fallen leaves have made a blanket for the sleeping seeds. All the woodland animals try to tell Winter their work is done and it's his turn. They try every kind of persuasion, but Winter won't wake up. Finally a ladybug whispers something gently in his ear, and that does the trick.
If you are interested in any of these books, they can be purchased here.
Now it's your turn. What are your favourite children's books?
(Above) The nature table is set up: the manger seen in the corner. (Below) The candles are ready to set in the garden, King Winter and his reindeer have appeared at the window, the cookies are made, the table is set, and the beeswax candles are made (each person is to receive one as they leave).