BOO! And a good day to you. Sixteen-month-old Elijah’s strapped in his carseat for the drive to day care. Mom initiates some fun. Elijah imitates her babbling. Then, on his own initiative, he suddenly takes off his knit cap to play Peek-a-Boo, like the children in Georgios Jakovides‘s 1895 Peek-a-Boo painting from Germany. Some games are timeless and ubiquitous. Peek-a-Boo!🤗
Do you remember your first puddle? Do you remember splashing around in a puddle? Elijah will. His mother taped the moment so he’ll remember his playful self when he grows old, forgetful, and not so naturally playful, like Grandpa (“Bumpa”).
Puddle stomping is child’s play. Avoiding puddles is adult play; joy and the smiles are fewer. I hope Elijah playing in his first puddle brings out your inner child and a smile.
Elijah is the apple of more than two eyes. Long before he’s old enough to do anything for which he might merit his Views from the Edge fame, he exhibits a spirit of joy and generosity that runs against the grain of grumpiness and greed. Not only does he strut (see yesterday’s post); Elijah SHARES.
He doesn’t have much, but he shares what little he has. He shares his ‘Cheerios’ with the less fortunate, and it seems to come naturally. Like a mother Robin stuffing worms in a baby Robin’s mouth, Elijah shares his Cheerios with his six month younger cousin, Calvin (10 months). Take a look.
“Love has its own color, Share it with someone before it fades away.” —Â Nishan Panwar
“All who joy would win must share it. Happiness was born a Twin.” —Â Don Juan Canto II, Lord Byron ((1788 – 1824)
Elijah is now 16 — sixteen months, that is — but walking like the boss. He struts, hands behind his back, swaying to the music in his head, waving his arms while making a guest appearance with the Boston Symphony to conduct the debut of his latest composition.
“Grandpa, isn’t life great!” he seems to say. Then he throws out his arms to be picked up and give Grandpa a kiss. “I’m gonna be like Winton Marsalis, Ray Charles, and Stevie Wonder. Grandma says maybe I’m a Mozart or a Benjamin Britton. Mom says J.S. Bach but I say Bach’s too boring, too inside the box. I’m a composer but I’m no Bach, and I’m a conductor, too.
“I play outside the box, Grandpa, like Spike Jones! Spike was both a composer and a conductor. Maybe I’ll be like Spike, pick up some trash at the park, bring back the City Slickers Band, and take America back to the 1950s! But Spike was weird, and he didn’t move his arms like a real conductor. He just put together some old tin cans and junk and pulled together some honky instruments and band members that made America laugh. I like making people laugh, but I’m no Spike Jones. I want to be Leonard Bernstein.
Grandpa and Grandma will be in Boston next month for a wedding in Boston Symphony Hall. As we witness the exchange of “I do’s”, we’ll imagine Elijah as a City Slicker with a baton in hand, strutting to the stage to conduct the debut of his latest composition with the Boston Symphony Orchestra.
Turning 76 reminds me of “Seventy-Six Trombones” from The Music Man. Every town loves a parade. What’s a town without a parade? Or a big marching band? The Music Man, Harold Hill, arrives in peaceful little town of River City, and convinces its citizens that “they got troubles”. He’s a con man who sells musical instruments, promising to create the greatest marching band the world has ever seen, led by 76 trombones.
Sound and look familiar? No parades. Please, no parades.
Some things bring a smile. This short clip of Elijah and our dog Barclay playing with Barclay’s ball is one of them. Turn up the volume and smile.
Enjoying a snack with his Mom yesterday, Elijah learned about gravity.
Mom, what happened?
You turned the bag upside down.
So?
You can’t turn it upside down unless you want the snacks to fall to the floor.
Why?
It’s called gravity. Gravity pulls everything down.
Uh-uh!
Uh-huh!
Uh-uh!
Uh-huh!
Uh-uh! Doesn’t pull me down! I’ll just reach for my snacks!!! Nothing takes me down!
“Breaking Silence” brought requests for more from Elijah, my nine-month old grandson. Today, we’ll let Elijah “speak” for himself from his carseat. He’s enjoying a “conversation” with his Mom. Turn up the sound and enjoy Elijah and Kristin.
Elijah is named after the prophet Elijah for whom a seat is left empty at every Seder, the Jewish celebration of Passover. But it’s not just the Jewish community who leaves an empty chair for Elijah.
Thanks for coming by. Elijah rock, Shout! Shout! Keep hope alive!
Grace and Peace,
Grandpa, Elijah, and Mahalia, Chaska, MN, March 8, 2018.
Elijah and Grandma are playing peek-a-boo this morning after his mother texted last night that Elijah is “the p-e-r-f-e-c-t baby.” He’s not. He has a cold, and Grandma doesn’t have Kleenex or a handkerchief. She needs your help. Get some Kleenex or a hanky and  take a good look at America’s future perfect President.
Grandpa, what’s joy? Is it like happiness?
Good morning, Elijah! What brought that up?
Mom keeps singing “Joy to the world”! What’s joy? What’s the world?
Joy is deep gladness, Elijah. Happiness is like joy, but joy is deeper. It has to do with who you and and an inexplainable assurance about you, your Mom, and the world. It’s a deep inner gladness. You show it to me every day. Â Don’t let the world take away your gladness, Elijah!
Okay, Grandpa! But what’s with that third stanza, that thing about the curse?
Oh, that! “No more let sins and sorrows grow, Nor thorns infest the ground; He comes to make his blessings flow Far as the curse is found, Far as the curse is found, Far as, far as, the curse is found.”
Yeah, that. What’s the curse, Grandpa? We’re not supposed to curse, right?
Right. But this is a different kind of curse. It’s the curse of selfishness and greed that bring sorrow to the world.
Isaac Watts — he’s the one who wrote the words to “Joy to the World” for Christmas — knew all about selfishness and greed when he wrote “Joy to the World” way back in 1719. Isaac was English. He knew all about colonialism and the nations.
Yeah, my baby-sitter really loves that last stanza about the nations! She says American exceptionalism is a curse. She really likes that fourth stanza. “He rules the world with truth and grace, And makes the nations prove The glories of His righteousness, And wonders of His love, And wonders of His love, And wonders, wonders, of His love.”
Views from the Edge 