My daughter was born four years ago amidst fires. Southern California was ablaze with wildfires and the night before we went to the hospital I stood and watched the red horizon, wondering if we would be evacuated. This time around there were rains, beautiful cool rains that soaked the earth and brought forth life. Seedlings, mosses, and a new life. He was born one week ago and has fascinated me ever since.
While Child Harbat is a fiery blaze of a child, all noise and emotion and life, Number Two (as he shall be known on this blog) is a contemplative sort. I’ve never known, in my very limited experience, a child of just a few days to cry and demand to be held up so he can regard the world. Just a few minutes ago he cried because I was holding him against my chest, then cried again when I laid him down. “Okay, let’s sit up and have a look around,” I told him. Once held upright, he immediately calmed down, took stock of his surroundings, and said, “Uh!” Then he stared at the lamp for a minute. Maybe it’s being born in the rains but I’m feeling something quite different about him. Right away we knew our daughter was a force of nature, a blaze of life that makes your face flushed and excited your spirit. Will my son be a rejuvenating spirit, a bringer of life and peace? Something in his expression tells me yes.