This afternoon the
neighbourhood was empty, silent and cold.
Sidewalks, streets, and sky were
all a stark, depressing grey. A chill
wind mocked the faint rumours of spring.
(Fake news?)
The playground structures
in the parkette across the street are now cordoned off. The swings and climbers are wrapped round in
yellow Caution tape. A big, black-on-white
CLOSED sign is posted on one of the ladders.
Do not open ‘til … hopefully not as far away as Christmas.
But then on the
sidewalk were three sections of pavement with a message in chalk. “Be Kind.”
Blank section. “Hope,” with a
smiley-face beaming sun. Blank
section. “Be positive.”
A block or two
farther on were more etchings. Of an
even more ambitious child. Maybe ten
messages left for any passerby. For want
of a phone or pen and paper, all I can remember are “Darkness does not beat
light” and “If your (sic.) going to
be WEIRD, at least be CONFIDENT about it.”
Ten delightful commandments for life in a time of anxiety.
God bless you, little Moses! Messiah child at least for a moment.
And along the way
back home, holy writ and sacred art hung in house after house, in living room and
kitchen and dining room windows, facing out for strangers like me to see. Child-pictures of happy people, of flowers,
of a dog standing under a sun and saying, “It will get better.” Another urging, “keep it up everyone.”
How can I not be
grateful for the children who see the caution tape, follow the rules, and yet
still believe in life? How not
pray for the Child in us all?
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