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I wasn’t going to write today. My tired body and weary mind said, “Nope. You are all out of gas.” Then I took a walk. While walking I listened to sweet Ada Limón on her poetry podcast The Slowdown. More than the poem she read, I was inspired by her introductory words. She said, “There are symbols everywhere.” I took that line and mused on it. This is what I dictated into my Notes app (with some revision).
There are Symbols Everywhere
No one noticed I wore my grandmother’s bracelet– charms with each grandchild’s name engraved, missing Beth, the youngest born too late to make it onto the chain before Nene’s death. I wonder if she wore the tinkling charms placing me in the center of her circle a symbol of her love for us, or a symbol of God, family, humanity? It is a symbol nevertheless to me, to me.
The whole room smells of graham crackers and icing, sweet-scented as Christmas should be, marked by twinkle lights and fingers dipped in icing or glitter glue.
Santa’s in the hallway listening to every child’s wish. Teachers are tired, overwhelmed by lists and sugary treats. Too much time spent on planning, cooking, decorating.
But there’s the child with bright eyes who opens her arms and says “I love you”.
You must open your little gingerbread house to all of it.
Margaret Simon, draft
I started my day listening to Ada Limón and The Slowdown. She talked about her grandmother’s kitchen and read the poem little tree by ee cummings. I played this episode for my students, and we wrote together. My poem above is true. I took the plunge and did gingerbread houses made out of graham crackers for the first (and most likely last) time. The success on Avalyn’s face and her insistence on telling me she loved me comforted my weary soul. She wrote a sweet story about her little gingerbread house on Fanschool here. (Spoiler alert: it includes a true story about a lizard rescue.)
Chloe wrote a poem side-by-side to ee cummings.
(after ee cummings little tree)
bright star bright little North Star you are so bright you are more like a light
who found you behind Mars and were you sad to lose hide and seek? see I will comfort you because you light up my Christmas tree.
i will hug your prickly sides and swing you gently as your mother would so don’t run away
and my father and i will lift you up and look at your shining stem we’ll skip and sing “Behold that Star”
Chloe Willis, 6th grade
This is the time of year for the Winter Poetry Swap. I exchanged with Karen Eastlund. She sent me the following poem (how cool that it’s in the shape of a Christmas tree) along with some delicious goodies and a hand sewn mini bin. Thanks, Karen.
Margaret Simon lives on the Bayou Teche in New Iberia, Louisiana. She teaches gifted elementary students, writes poetry and children's books. Welcome to a space of peace, poetry, and personal reflection. Walk in kindness.
Reflections on the Teche 