Christmas Parade

Jeremiah and Nathaniel all bundled up. It was cold!
Main Street
Mama and Jeremiah
Jeremiah hugging a flag pole and yelling "come down flag!".

We are not sure why.

On Monday evening Aaron called me on his was home from work and suggested that we go to the Christmas parade in the small town of Summerville where he teaches. We piled in the car as soon as he got home and headed out. Summerville is a small town in a pretty economically depressed area. The factories that once were the main economic engine of the town have long since closed down. Like many small towns in America the quaint and personal shops that once lined Main Street have been replaced by large chain stores on the outskirts of town, sucking the life out of the main square of the town. But on this one evening the Main Street was once again a bustling hub of activity with most of the community lining the street chatting and drinking hot chocolate while they waited for the parade to start. The parade was a typical small town parade with twinkling homemade floats by various church youth groups pulled behind large Ford trucks, the marching bands of the 2 local high schools high stepping it down the street enthusiastically playing Christmas carols, and winners of local beauty pageants smiling and braving the cold in their finery as they were borne down the street in vintage open topped automobiles in their.

To my adult and cynical eyes the parade was nothing special or spectacular and definitely not something that I would have stood in the cold for myself. But seen through the eyes of my child the parade was an extravagant, fantastical event. To him the lights were magical, the music from the marching band was spectacular, and the scenes depicted on the floats were real life dramas unfolding before his eyes. But the highlight of the evening was not the appearance of Santa Claus. My son's eyes were big as saucers and the smile on his face brighter than all the Christmas lights when The Cat in the Hat and Clifford both approached him waving and (gasp) gave him high fives! What are the chances of that happening at the big, extravagant parades in the city?

I was reminded as we drove home that these memories are the stuff that childhood is made of. To me it was an evening spent shivering in the cold watching a mediocre small town parade. But to my son it was a magical evening of lights, music and fantasy.

(Note: I would have taken more pictures, specifically of the Cat in the Hat and Clifford, but my camera ran out of batteries. Dang it! We haven't stopped hearing of his experience with those 2 favorite characters since.)