Childhood's Parable--Chapter Ten

Revelation

Then the one who sits on the throne said, "And now I make all things new!" Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth.

Revelation 21

Once again I reentered the world which with the deepest part of me never left, that of childhood. The unexpected snow storm and subsequent snow slide I built eased the way. As for my snow slide, I announced, with pride, on the second day of my new creation, just after I had added a lengthy extension to the slide, an extension complete with banked walls, I announced that this had been, after all, my second greatest creation second only to that of my daughter, Creedance. With and for my only child, who was now twelve, I worked industriously and with purpose. Despite my physical pain, the cold, my wet boots, my hunger, I worked with a certain sense of freedom. Despite the fact that it was on my neighbor's property, I felt like I understood what Voltaire meant by his enigmatic advice "tend one's garden." I was tending our snow slide and loving every minute.

On our first day of snow, as it happened, I had made an igloo. Right there on our own back deck in a six foot snow drift. The "idea" of this igloo surpassed the actual results, but I was able to make the fair Creedance crawl inside for pictures. It's not that I hadn't had the idea of a snow slide before, but then on the second day when I discovered something to slide on, a large bright lime-green disc, slightly curved on bottom on sale at the hardware store for only $9 plus tax, there was suddenly ample reason to actually make a snow slide, not merely ideate one.

The slide itself evolved. A nice little dip from our driveway to the down hill side of the property made for a nice little first thrill that would eventually pale in significance compared to the full blown, full tilt slide-o-rama that was to come. Clearly the driveway-like slope next to us on that same side of our property, offered a much longer path for adventure. Creedance and I climbed carefully up the side of that embankment making stair-like indentations into the side of the snow banks to create steps that could withstand our frequent trips to the head of the snow slide. This was such a perfect slope that our first trips down the slope took us all the way to the bottom and were fun from the very first ride through he newly fallen snow.

At the top of the hill Creedance or I would find foot holds to the side of the slide; sit our butts down towards the rear of the disc; grab the two hand holds; balance; pull our feet in towards the middle; (occasionally scream); and slide pall mall towards the bottom where we would crash and burn and see how close we had come to the dog poop that a canine had placed treacherously just beyond the paved end of the slide, and which, due to the gradual, natural lengthening of the slide, I eventually had to remove, via a shovel, to the enthusiastic fanfare of my daughter. My only other physical task on this day was to smooth down any butt crushing bumps or grooves caused by errant cascades down our snow mountain.

All this made for more than ample excitement for a first day's creation. If anything the slide was even more fun the second day. The snow had iced over some and was slicker, thus the ride was faster. But there were yet more complex and interesting possibilities. Although our slide was bottoming out at the path's lowest point, just over a snow bank to its left was another nice slope downward. The greatest problem that reaching this second slope posed was that it was at almost a 90° left turn. It wouldn't be easy to make such a hard turn with a rudderless disc. But (it seems all my friends have big butts), if I could build a high, tapered wall at the end of the slide, perhaps such a turn could be arranged. I had that much sense of gravity, logistics, toboggans, civil engineering, whatever . . . that a wall was required.

Fast and furious I wielded my shovel and built such a wall, leveled the snow bank, doubled the potential length of the slide. It was beautiful; but would it stand the empirical test? Creedance, the Top Gun, careened down the original length of the slide, hit the newly built wall perfectly, successfully executed the hard left turn. In fact the wall, my wall, was so incredibly successful, it not only sent her left, but right back up the hill and into a large brown, thorny bush that was still asserting itself through the snow. I realized immediately I'd have to build yet another wall on the other side of the slide so that she could right herself before continuing down the remaining length of the slide, and realized subsequently, that, yes, Creedance was all right and had done little damage to the slide's surface. This second wall was built swiftly and securely by the deft hands of experience. I raged against the dying of the day.

I actually had as much fun tending the slide as riding on it. I packed, dug, smoothed, repaired, even cajoled the snow all along the path. I was as fussy as the airline mechanics who advertise their airline on TV. I celebrated Creedance's best rides (she learned to shift her weight and improve her rides adroitly), and fussed at her if she drug a foot and marred the snow. A truly great time was had by all.

I also understood that it wasn't the slide itself that was inherently meaningful. Rather the value was the shared experience with my daughter, although such sentimentality didn't mean I wasn't ordering her around; that she wasn't rebelling; nor that she didn't become a master navigator over the course of her own slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. I saw a new heaven and a new earth and praised God.