The Wrap
We have a wayward relationship with Life.
There is always something to pooh pooh until we see it as about to be taken from us. As it happened, I was struggling with the plastic tree outside. The lights had of course died this year, for spite, and the thing refused to balance in its stand on the front porch planks, yet I refused to throw it out, thinking it could have one last blast outdoors. For the benefit of the neighborhood, was my thinking, it being my first year on the block. I was whistling Here Comes Santa Claus, and O Christmas Tree, while cussing the insubordination of the damn thing.
While making this unsightly exhibition, my new neighbor to the right, who I had just met that morning, was walking back to her house. She was pushing one of those walkers disguised as a pushcart. She'd done some modest shopping, and I noticed again that her right eye, to my left, wandered involuntarily, so that everything she said was as if addressed to an audience beyond ourselves over her shoulder. It flowed with the wind that was blowing her shoulder length dark hair, over a slight stoop in the hill of her back that was repeated in the hill just behind her on the grassy park side of the street. We were lucky that way. Less neighbors.
What she was saying was oddly detached as well, "Oh, yar putting yar tree outside this year." I nodded, not having done it last year, but how could she know? "Well, I hope nobody takes it. That's a nice star up top, too," now I started to think she was getting ideas, but I shook my head affably.
"You see any books in braille pick em up for me, will ya?"
By now I was done with the balancing and was struggling with stringing the lights. The strand was as could be expected too short, but experience had taught me to make the best of it so I was wrapping only the parts that would show. It took a moment for the heft of the question to hit me: could she not actually see what I am doing?
Was she reading some other clues, sounds or song or did she perceive at least the glimmer of the lights, being that I was working with the power on...?
Her eye wandered around and focused on me momentarily then drifted again. "No, no, for my granddaughter. She's ar miracle child. We thought'd she'd be deaf too. If she made it. She did. God bless her. Her hearing's fine and she's starting to talk. Just the sweetest thing.
Well, they're hard to find. Braille books are, ya know? So ya see any..."
"How old is she? ... I mean um... yeah of course" .... I didn't want to pry but was trying to figure what she might like the request falling on me along with my now toppling tree... This woman was well on in years and anyway no sense in speculating the ages. "Does she like... animals?" I ventured, looking for something sure.
"Yah. Three."
And she's reading! I wanted to say, but that was shock speaking, because of course we all start somewhere.
"I don't actually know braille myself. Well, ya have a good day. And a Merry Christmas to ya! Stay safe."
I righted the tree, and went in. I pulled out my laptop and ordered a Duplex animal book for 3-5 year olds. Braille marks, and I figured she'd cross reference with the toys, maybe, at some point being that they're so common.
It should arrive tomorrow. Just in time to... wrap....
12.22.2023
The Unexpected Gift @dctezcan