May 2008: Where the Wild things are

Dear Family, 

 

Spring always brings about newness--new life, new starts, and new adventures.  This idea of fresh starts has been made clear to me lately.  It all started Easter weekend, while outside with friends, Central Avenue came to life. 

 

Have you ever read Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak?  It is the story of an imaginative little boy, Max, who is sent to his room with no supper.  While in his room, he falls asleep and dreams of an adventure in which he is an explorer, sailing the high seas and heading to a new world.  Upon arriving in the new land the wild animals ask him to join in their lives and be their leader.  He joins in their wild rumpus as king, but he knows something is missing.  Finally he smells something familiar, a scent that has traveled the high sea and made him miss his mother.  At the close of the book, there is a bowl of soup next to his bed, piping hot, waiting for him.  I love this book, and recently I had my own adventurous day in a new land, just as Max did. 

 

I was sent to my “room” (metaphorically, any lawn work is a form of punishment for me and doing it can be taken as my “room”).  So there I was outside doing lawn work, when the road became a sea of cars. Police and neighbors flooded the street, and I was in the “boat” watching it all happen, not yet realizing that this event would allow me access to the wild rumpus.  My cohorts and I were preparing the yard for the community garden we have started, trimming trees, cutting down over growth, and scratching our heads wondering what to do with all the debris.  And then it happened, the first glimpse of the world we long to be a part of, a car slowed down, a neighbor came over, and a teen, long absent from the neighborhood, stopped by--all to ask us what was going on.  I thought I was swinging through the trees, for a brief moment I got to be the insider, I was one of the wild things and we were all together.  Now to be fair, I had no idea what was going on with the police; no one did.  There were five police cars on the corner, and no news of what happened; a speculation, but no fact. 

 

The car that halted was a neighbor up the street, wanting us to know that the yard was looking great, and he wondered what was going on.  The woman who stopped lives a couple doors down, and she wanted us to know that she places our trash can inside the fence after it has been picked up and wonders if that is OK.  She also wants to know what is going on.  The teen wanted me have his new number, and upon my inquiry as to where he had been, he said, “Getting myself better.”  Rehab.  There is an island after a long journey, and I have decided that, as long as there is growth and new life, I never want to return, not even to a bowl of soup that is still warm.  So pray that our neighbors see God’s love, a teen stays clean, and our garden grows while building community on Central Ave.