The first day of Spring

brought a new little niece to me, and a new little daughter to my brother Joe, and his wife Sarah. We knew for a short while that today would be the day, because my sister-in-law was going to be induced, but it was still a delight and surprise when I got the message that she came. It was also a delight and surprise when I woke up today and realized that it was officially Spring. Really, what better day to be born? What better way to begin this perfect season than with a birth? The season itself exemplifies all things life, all things hope.

I still remember a day in Utah that was an in between Winter/Spring day. It was cold outside. And I was walking to school. And there was snow on the ground. When I got to the campus and was walking up the dreaded hill (the one on the South side, near the duck pond), I saw daffodils springing forth out of that cold, hard ground. I was still. I was still because things that look dead aren't really dead, and Spring is the best time to remember that. On other blustery days I would consciously remind myself, "There is Spring. There is hope." The reminder soon became a mantra to me. Or perhaps a prayer. I would think it so often and so sincerely. It may have been the only way I made it through those short days and long nights.

I also remember other Vernal Equinoxes, when there wasn't a baby to celebrate. Just the season itself, and its accompanying promise of warmth and light. That was enough. And so we gathered together, to eat, and drink and share. There were multiple go around the circle activities, where persons present could read a poem or scripture, or perhaps pass around a picture. We would also say our favorite thing about Spring, just as we previously sat (or danced) in a circle sharing our hopes and joys of Winter. And Summer. And Fall. Sometimes during Spring Equinox we planted seeds carrying wishes written in very small hand. Other times just scraps of paper. Twice we dyed eggs naturally with onion skins (and other things). Once they came out the deepest red. Another time they looked red in the water, but came out a warm yellow.

The next year I read a little book, called "The Tree that Survived the Winter," because my year had been a very hard year. One that felt like winter.  (It is really a marvel that I survived.) Someone inevitably talked about symbolism. I probably also talked about Persian New Year. There were always candles. There was nearly always flute playing and jumping over those candles. There was always chanting. Quiet to loud, with strands of words that meant Spring to us. I don't remember them now, except "Verdant" and "Green," but there were so many. One for each person.

This year my word would be "Scarlet." And if I were given three words, they would be, "Scarlet Rose Hunt," the babe's whole name. If I were given four, I would add, "Hope," because that is what Spring signifies for me the very most. One more fact about the baby: she is just a few ounces short of 7 pounds (which I suppose is not a very complete fact, but it is the best I can do). Also, I love this picture my brother posted.

I think it is something about Scarlet's big sisters peeking in at her, with curiosity mingled with awe, mingled with hesitation. And I love these old Boston/Equinox pictures. And each person/memory associated with them.

Circa 2011 (don't let the time stamps deceive you):

Circa 2010:

Circa 2009:

 

It's piggybank time!

This post is also about Eden, which may temporarily make my blog an aunty blog (not to be confused with a Mommy blog).

It is also about my sister Charity, who shares the privilege of being Eden's aunt. It is important to know that both Charity and Eden like to sing, and that they frequently sing to each other. It is also important to know that they are very good at this.* And that they make up their own songs (both the tune and the words), and that they sometimes communicate this way for half hours at a time, for whole days at a time. It is a remarkable thing to behold. During one such time, Charity was singing to Eden that she needed to eat, and Eden was singing her reply (i.e., her unwillingness to eat). Imagine if you will, a cute, catchy tune. Also keep in mind that at the time of this sing-songy conversation, Eden was 3ish.

C: It's eating time.

E: It's not time to eat, it's money time.

C: It's play time.

E: No, no, no. It's not time to play, it's money time.

(And so on. Always ending with Eden shaking her finger and singing that it was money time.)

Two years pass. Christmas passed. It is now. Charity (who loves the Oregon Ducks) got an Oregon Duck pillow pet for Christmas. Enter Eden (who has her own pillow pet).

E: I wish I could have that pillow pet.

C: You already have a pillow pet.

E: I'll switch you!

C: I don't want to switch. Santa gave it to me for my Christmas present. Don't you want me to have what Santa wanted to give me? (Thinking she would respect Santa.)

E: I'll give you money!

C: No.

E: Please, I'll give you money.

C: No. I don't want your money.

E: Please, I just really want that pillow pet.

I knew she was serious, purely by how serious she is about her money. It also inspired me to leave her the following note, with the majority of my non-European change.

Apparently she loved it. Apparently she could also read every word. But "money."

*At my granny's funeral, immediately following my aunt and cousin's lovely rendition of "I'll Fly Away," Eden whispered, "They sing beautiful just like I sing beautiful."