Sunday, December 19, 2010

SUNDAY MEMORIES: COUNTING THE MIRACLE OF LIGHTS


On our side of the Williamsburg Bridge there were barely any electric menorahs in our windows. Our menorahs, old brass or faux silver with blue inlays to represent Israel, lived on tables and had old melted candles of muted colors, candles bought in the same blue box made by the same company from any store on the Lower East Side.

So it was the other side of the Williamsburg Bridge that every year as it got colder and colder I would watch carefully. There, the tall projects would burst, window by window, into brilliant colored lights rarely seen in the homes I knew. I counted them, like counting flowers in a garden.

4 comments:

A Fistful Of Moonbeams™ said...

It's the business of the living to look for witnesses to our lives. In this case, engaging in a simple activity as watching lights glow or 'burst' from the windows signifies that the watcher is busily identifying signs of life blinking at us, therefore validating his/her very own existence. Wonderous write!

Alana said...

I had the opposite.. in my old city I never saw brass or silver menorahs only the plastic ones. After I came here I enjoyed (still do) seeing the real ones lit with real flames as I walked by at dusk. It's a beautiful sight to see. :)

bucko said...

I'm just pleased people put lights in windows. They're beacons and signs and lighthouses. We had ye old Christmas lights, single plastic candles with blue flame-shaped bulbs. They were tape-tacky and dusty and the cords were all knotted up but it was such the ritual to see them light blue in the cold night.

Brian Miller said...

nice. its great to know we are not alone in this world...