Lights

 

For many of us, our favorite part of the holiday season comes wrapped in the memories it stirs up. We’re reminded of the excitement and wonder of a more innocent time; a time when it didn’t matter if we were good at something, it just mattered that we were good. That time doesn’t last long enough. But if we let it, this time of year can bring back some of that wonderment.

It’s the Christmas lights, especially, that do it for me. Whether it’s the soft glow of white incandescents or the playful pink, yellow, and green dressing up a shrub; they conjure up a thousand happy thoughts of Christmases past. Growing up in my house, the holidays were filled with warmth and comfort. I try not to take these memories for granted, not everyone is fortunate enough to have them.

That’s why I’d been looking forward to the Holiday Lights Run. I was anxious to see Pittsburgh all lit up, and it was important for me to donate to Children’s Hospital. I can’t imagine how it would feel for a child to spend Christmas in the hospital or to be the parent of a child who is sick. I’m not a parent, but I am an aunt to a niece and nephew who I love with my whole heart. I know how my heart would crumble if they were hurt or sick. Every child deserves to have happy memories.

The race started after dark on one of the coldest days this winter. For most of the day at work, I was dreading that cold. I layered up with a long sleeve tech shirt, a white fluffy fleece and my favorite red pom-pom hat. I’m not sure if that was enough, or if I was just too distracted to notice the cold. Runners signed in at PPG place where we were handed a list of directions to get us through the courses. I stared at the paper for a moment hoping that by some miracle I would memorize the entire list in the next 5 seconds. I’m terrible with directions. Um… yeah, I’m gonna get so lost.

“Right onto 3rd Ave, til end.” Okay, here I go. I headed out with slight trepidation. There’s something that feels sinister about a quiet, frigid winter night. But something felt surprisingly tranquil about this night. By the time I made it to Point State Park I was in a blissfully serene state. The reflection of the city lights on the water and the blue LED snowflakes along the route transported me back in time. For a few breathtaking moments my heart was four years old again; uncomplicated and untainted.

I ran at a comfortable pace through the city, marveling at the contrast of dark and light. Just like when I was little and would turn off the living room lights  while the tree was lit. I’d be soothed by the blinking lights casting colorful shadows on the wall. One time in particular, I’d overheard my dad and brother in another room listening to the radio. Billy Joel’s “This is the Time” started playing and my dad explained the important meaning of the lyrics. He spoke with a wistful and wise tone. That moment stuck with me through all these years and he doesn’t even know that I was listening in.

I probably got lost about 4 times during the race, but I didn’t mind. For once I wasn’t worried about my speed. Besides, I knew my way around enough to hit all the major landmarks. I saw three huge trees wrapped in multi-colored bulbs and a life-size nativity scene; I made my way through Market Square, past the ice rink, and back inside PPG Place. It was by far the most beautiful run I’ve experienced. This was the first race in a very long time that I ran for the fun of it. I usually get too caught up in the pressure of pushing myself to have a fast time. That realization came with a bit of sadness. I guess that’s life.

I stayed inside for a few minutes to warm up. My face felt stiff and my frozen ears probably matched the color of my hat. I perused the display of gingerbread houses made by local elementary students. I hoped that building them meant building happy memories for those kids. Under the warm bright lights their icing shingles and M&M door frames looked pretty delicious. I must’ve been starving by then.

Then I thought about the kids at Children’s. We want so much to protect our children and keep them happy. It brings us joy to put smiles on their faces. Not just at Christmas time- as much as we possibly can. There’s something exciting about watching a child experience the world, but there’s also so much we want to shield them from. We can’t always do that. What we can do is guide them with wisdom, arm them with happy memories, and fill them with light. They’re going to keep these things with them even when we’re not around. And after we’re gone, they’ll still have that light to guide them if they get lost. If we do right by them, they’ll be able to share their light with others. They’ll know that strength comes from hope; they’ll appreciate the beauty of quiet moments, and most of all, understand the importance of kindness and love.

Merry Christmas!