inklingfair The house had been silent for weeks on end before Amy’s reading class watched The Garden Song yesterday. Suddenly it was as if a musical tap had turned on, and Amy wanted me to look for every single song she knew (and a few that I missed hearing) so we could listen to them. So we did. And it was a comfort.
Inch by inch, row by row
Please bless these seeds I sow
Please keep them safe below
‘Til the rain comes tumbling down
The Byrds song seemed to have been rewritten for children, and this line wrung me: A time to hug, a time to kiss / a time to close your eyes and wish.
I normally dislike Christmas (the secular holiday) because I’ve never enjoyed large gatherings with people I only see once a year. But this time there are people whom I haven’t seen in months and wish I could sit down and talk with face to face: Ribi, Randel, Iris, Mich. Patty and Jan. Leica and Gerr. Ernest and A. Jaja and the third-from-the-aisle high school gang. Geli and Joan.
The quarantine has been especially hard on Amy, because she’s such an extrovert and loves being around people. A friend tweeted recently that despite being such a grinch, he wouldn’t begrudge people their little holiday joys because we all need something to be happy about this year. And so I girded my loins and put up some fairy lights and pestered Josh to fix up the belen with Amy. We played some carols last night and baked cinnamon raisin rolls.
I remember what Amy’s class presented in her first school Christmas pageant. I remember loving these pageants as a child, not because of the requisite song-and-dance numbers, but because rehearsals meant shortened classes (and more snacks!) for us kids. It was only when we moved back to the Philippines from Thailand and had to attend all the family reunions that I began to zone out on Christmas.
It’s funny because I actually enjoyed 2019’s Christmas season: there was the U2 Singapore getaway with Josh, the end of my season in Human Nature, then the announcement of Advent and the convivence (I even kept Kiko’s nativity print of “a providential New Year!”), the various family reunions, Amy ecstatically ripping wrappers off her gifts. I was beginning to think to myself, “hey, Christmas isn’t bad after all…” and then Taal erupted and the pandemic threw the world into chaos.
Despite everything, it was a providential year. We found out I was pregnant. Someone generously offered to lease us their apartment for a fee realtors would blow their tops off at. We discovered a reliable online grocery (which we still use) when the the other delivery services had weeks-long waiting lists. We found Jing when we needed help and she needed work. We found Cherry and Diane when Jing was called back by her agency. Everyone is healthy and well.
During the announcement of Advent, I was only barely listening. But I know now more than ever to be in expectation. Not only of “Christ passing by”, but of another year passing by. Well something’s lost, but something’s gained / In living every day.
