Episode 32: Parade of Lights

You are standing on the corner of College Avenue and Stevens Lane, across from Johann’s Pizza. All around you, neighbors are gathering beneath the night sky for Neighborful Station’s annual Parade of Lights, which takes place in the days before the winter solstice. You are wearing a reflective vest and holding a flashlight, in your role as a parade marshal. Someone wanders through the crowd in front of you wearing a portable grill, and you smell the earthy scent of roasting chestnuts. You feel the cold night air on the back of your neck, and you take a slow breath.

Grace approaches you, pulling her family’s wagon, and says, “Hello, You! Can I interest you in some hand warmers?”

You say, “Yes, please. I think I’m a little under-layered for the night.”

Grace reaches into the wagon and then hands you two small wrapped packets, saying, “You might just feel chilly from standing still here. Hopefully you will warm up a little bit, once we get moving. I’m off to find Matthew and Chris - they’re somewhere around here, arguing about Christmas parades in movies.”

You say, “See you later!”

As you unwrap the warmers, feeling their chemical heat spring to life beneath your fingertips, a drumline begins to play in the distance, and the people around you whoop and cheer. Someone on a unicycle, juggling flaming bowling pins, rides past you in the street, threading their way through the crowd. Your radio crackles with Joshua saying, “We’re on the move, everyone!” And the Parade of Lights begins its slow march down through town, to the river.

Because the sun sets so early in this time of year, it is very dark outside, even though it is not yet 7:00 in the evening. But all around you, the town and its people are lit up against the long night. Kids are wearing arms full of glow bracelets. At the cross streets intersecting College Avenue, there are bonfires happening on each corner, with families and friends gathered around them, making s’mores. You see Fritz and Anna on one of the corners, with an array of Fritz’s homemade pizza ovens, serving flammkuechen to the parade goers. From the rooftop of the Union Hall, you hear cheering, and you look up to see kids holding sparklers as they watch over the parade.

Anna spots you in the crowd, waves joyfully, and runs over with a paper plate in her hand. “Hello, You!” she says. “Can you help us with the flammkuechen? We made too much!”

You say, “Yes, though I cannot imagine that’s true.” You accept the plate from her, heavenly steam rising to meet your nose, and she gives your arm a squeeze as she runs back to their fleet of portable metal ovens.

The parade reaches the corner of College and Meade, and here you see the same signs and bright green line over the street that you saw on the 4th of July, indicating the beginning of the sensory zone in front of the library. The tall brick building looms over you, lit up with candles in every window, and in the quiet of the crowd, you feel a warm sense of gratitude surge through your body, rising from your toes through your legs and into your torso. There is a great feeling of lightness in your chest and shoulders, and you take a happy breath.

You are now on the last few blocks of town before reaching the Cumberland Valley Road, and the river below. At the intersection of College Avenue and Front Street, there is a choir in robes, singing for the passing townspeople. Finally, you and the gathered masses reach the foot of College Avenue, where the bridge over the river connects this side of town with the Greenhouse District. You and the crowd gasp with delight at what you see.

There are four enormous bonfires happening, one at each corner of the bridge. People have marched down to the river from the Greenhouse District as well, and there are volunteers handing out cups of hot cocoa to everyone. You accept a cup gratefully, pressing it to your lips and tasting the creamy sweetness as it coats the inside of your mouth like liquid gold.

But the most wonderful things you can see in this moment are the luminarias. Small paper bags, filled with candles, line every sidewalk and the roof of every building on both sides of the river. From the valley, you can see a thousand points of candlelight surrounding you. They mirror the stars in the night sky, which you can see perfectly clearly tonight, because the Moon has yet to rise. The exhaled breath of all your neighbors forms an ever-shifting cloud just above you, scattering the light of the luminarias into a million tiny rainbows, and you take a deep breath of your own.

Just then, a series of fireworks, launched from the north ridge behind the Greenhouse District, explode in a kaleidoscope of colors overhead. You notice the flashes from the fireworks glittering off the greenhouses, and you join the crowd in cheering your appreciation for the magic of this night.

Grace reappears next to you, with Matthew, Chris, Emily, and baby Claire also in tow. Grace says, “We’ve been looking all over for you! I thought you’d be easier to find, what with the vest and all.”

You say, “There’s an awful lot going on out here.”

Chris, holding Claire as she watches the sky with rapt attention, says to you, “Now that we’ve found you, maybe you can settle a debate for us….”

Matthew holds up a hand and says, “Let’s not ruin the night.”

The six of you stand together in the crowd, watching the fireworks, and you feel a tug at your sleeve. You look down to see Claire, with a handful of your coat fabric clutched in her fingers. She looks you in the eye and says, “Hold?”

At this, the adults whip around to look at her. Chris and Emily appear thunderstruck.

Claire ignores them and says to you again, very clearly, “Hold?”

Emily whispers, “Oh my gosh, it’s her first word.”

With a tear in your eye, you say, “Yes, Claire. Absolutely, I will hold you.”