On the other hand: A Fresh Start

I had just settled my weary bones down in my favorite chair, thinking I ought to

go to bed, even though it was early, but too tired even to brush my teeth and undress,

when I heard a faint tapping at the door.

Not quite cursing, but grumbling, I took my time trudging to the door, unlocked it, and

looked out, finding nobody. I peered up and down the street, and was about to close the

door when I heard a sound near my feet. Looking down, I found a toddler, perhaps two

years old, who looked barely able to walk.

“What’s this,” I asked, not expecting a reply.

“I may not look like it, but I’m an old friend, and you should have been expecting me.”

Startled that he could even speak, much less express himself in a complete sentence, I

sputtered, “Who are you and where did you come from?”

“Never mind that,” he said. “Tell me something: Are you content with what you’ve done

in life so far?”

“Well, no. Not really. Never have been, but I always thought there was time to do better

if I really tried.”

“Do you still feel that way?”

I narrowed my eyes and began to take his impertinent questions a little more seriously.

“To tell the truth, I’ve been suspecting lately that things are probably not ever going to get a whole lot better than they are.”

It vaguely occurred to me that this was an absurd conversation to be having with

a toddler on my doorstep on a blustery January evening. “Would you like to come in out of the

cold?”

“I was just about to invite you outside for a walk,” he said.

For the first time I considered that my visitor–indeed this whole experience–might be

something other than it seemed. “Why? Where do you want to take me?”

“Where you’ve been heading for all your life,” he called over his shoulder as he walked

toward the street. “Come on. You won’t need your hat and coat.”

Wondering why, I followed him, not even taking time to close the door.

As we left the walkway and turned down the street toward the distant lamp post, he

asked, “Do you remember all those things you dreamed of accomplishing before you

began to settle for less?”

“Why, what are you talking about?” I objected, and immediately seemed to hear Pink

Floyd in the background:

“And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?

 Hot ashes for trees?

 Hot air for a cool breeze?

 Cold comfort for change?

 And did you exchange a walk-on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?”

I began to weep, and lashed out at him, “I didn’t need to be reminded of all that.”

He stopped, stood in front of me, and reached up to hold both my hands in his. “Would

you like another chance, perhaps to get it right this time?”

Through my tears I sighed, “Who are you, anyway?”

“I go by many names, depending on the role I’m playing. But this time I’m you, of course.

Let’s take another run at it.” And he turned and led me toward the ever-increasing light.

*     *   *   *

Baby New Year became a recognized symbol of the New Year back in 600 B.C.

Christians denounced using a baby to recognize the New Year, declaring it a pagan

tradition.

Eventually, Christians commemorated the New Year with their own symbol of new

birth in the Baby Jesus. Legend tells us that at year’s end, Father Time passes on his wisdom and

duties as timekeeper to the Baby New Year who grows all year long eventually becoming the

next Father Time.

The two together represent the cycle of a human life compressed into just 365 days. Baby New Year is the promise of hope, rebirth, new life, and a new start for the coming year.