Wednesday, January 22, 2014

THE RAINBOW COLLISION




Lights  draped across a big hatpin through the curtain, with a sparkly snowflake suspended beneath.
 
The snow has been so persistent and lasting that school has been cancelled quite a bit lately.  Sweetpea comes to us for her “days out” and sometimes has to spend the night, as well.
 
They have to pay back any snow days over a certain number, by giving up holidays and part of Spring break.   So, on Monday, when they were supposed to be out for Martin Luther King Day, they went to school.   And on Tuesday, when she WAS out for snow, she put her own six-year-old's mix onto explaining the holiday.
 
Late on Tuesday afternoon, when the room was dimming and we had just finished watching a Tinkerbell movie, she started to tell me about all the fairies who have the task of coloring flowers and Autumn leaves.   She went over and picked up the little remote which controls the two long strings of leftover lights across the corner of ths room.   The strands have grown quite slipshod in the past weeks, as we’ve opened doors and retrieved items from cabinets and set other things down on ledges and shelves, but I have so enjoyed the play of color and the lift of the festive spirit they bring, I just say what-the-heck, and let them be.
 

 
 
“See me change the colors!” she said, waving her hand and clicking the little button to set the lights racing, and then another to begin a gentle crawl around the corner, melding and changing in a soft glow of color.
 
“This is the Rainbow Collision!”
 
“Do you know the definition of ‘collision’?” I asked.
 
“Yes.   It’s all the colors and people that come together and you don’t know who they are or where they come from, but it’s all beautiful.”
 
Yep.   That’s it.
 

 
 
 
 

3 comments:

Southern Lady said...

"Out of the mouths of babes" sometimes comes such wisdom. Your little Sweet Pea is following in your footsteps ... and has inherited your beautiful way with words and delightful imagination.

Kathy said...

What a great definition. I think she knows more than a lot of people three times her age do.

Tonja said...

Levi did not want the tall skinny golden tree in my bedroom to go away. When I started taking it down, he shouted "No, Lulu, STOP!" I turned around to see what ever he could be talking about. And, there he stood looking like an cartoon police officer with his hand in the "STOP" position! I asked him what he wanted me to stop. He answered in his best attempts at making sentences..."Dats Pa's tree...put it there...do not go back." And, I knew exactly what he meant...It was way too soon for Christmas to be over and too soon to lose all the pretty lights and the sparkly trees to go away. So, I left it there, and there it still is. But, it IS on the back of the house so the neighbors don't think I've lost my mind still having the tree up the end of January! :)

And, I think the definition is perfect! We grandmothers always know just what they mean, don't we?