The Magic Keeper

Shasta and The Equuschick, like most married couples, differ in many ways but one way in which they are very much alike is their shared sense of cynicism. This is not necessarily always a bad thing. They're practical. Feelings matter to the extent that they ought to be acknowledged, but never to the extent that they ought alone in themselves to define their choices, convictions, or attitudes. So far so good.

As a child The Equuschick was quite a sentimental soul, but just as her childhood heroine Anne Shirley discovered that romance was not appreciated in Avonlea,so The Equuschick grew up and discovered that sentiment did not accomplish much and that sometimes you get hurt and have to limp along anyway, and that sometimes it might be Fall outside but your old friends are gone and somehow, well, it is such a terrible cliche, but sometimes the crisp fall leaves get rained on in a storm and the rains wash the magic away. Life goes on. But there is no more magic.

Such was the death of The Equuschick's sentiment and the birth of her cynicism.

Shasta's childhood innocence was sacrificed entirely on the altar of his parents' divorce and any sentiment that may have survived such a childhood as his died with his comrades in Iraq.

Do not misunderstand The Equuschick, The Equuschick and Shasta are not unhappy people. They're very happy. And when they married and set up house, they set it up with love and good humour and they set it up with commitment and conviction.

But no magic. They will have been married for three years in November and for themselves they haven't bothered much with creating any unique family traditions, and decorations to celebrate the passage of the seasons just seems like such a hassle when there is so much that must be done. Who has time to make the Magic?


No, they are not sentimental people.

But children are sentimental people. They come that way, wanting magic. It is a sin and a shame for children to grow up without it. They grow up too soon without it and they grow up believing it doesn't exist.

There was a time when The Equuschick stepped out from under the umbrella of her childhood magic and she knew then that the World was cold, but because she had grown-up in the protective cocoon of her family's magic she never stopped believing that warmth and joy and delight existed at all. Even in the dark, she had faith in warmth and light because in her mind's eyes, and hands, and nose, and tongue, she had tasted these good things in the form of Russian Tea and hot chocolate and holiday music and pumpkins and Anne of Green Gables.

Yes. She had tasted these things and known that they were true.

And yes, there are things that must be done. But they must be done the right way and in the right spirit. This is hard. Our cold hearts sometimes need help.

What sullen spirit cannot be cheered by a strain of Vivaldi and a handfull of candy corn? What dark mood cannot be dispelled by a whiff of homemade potpourri on the stove and what drained heart cannot be cheered by home-made mashed potatoes and a roast on a cold and rainy day?

If it were not just and right that our spirits be trained and conditioned to respond to the cues of our physical senses, The Equuschick doubts very much that the Word would be so full of references to aromas and tastes and seeing and touching. All these things are tools that we must train to appreciate beauty and joy.

All these things being so, what did The Equuschick do?

She set aside the larger chores she'd meant to tackle the other day and went into town instead to buy apple cider, candy corn, and oranges and lemons. She came home and put the oranges and lemons with cloves and cinnamon to simmer as potpourri on the stove, and she put the apple cider in the crockpot with a splash of pineapple juice and more cloves and cinnamon and put the candy corn in dishes on the table and resolved even that at some point soon she really ought to purchase a pretty and seasonally appropriate candy bowl.


Why?

Because somehow through her children's childhood, she must rediscover her own.

Because it is now her turn to introduce the coming generation to the magic of the Story all around them.

Because she is the Gate-keeper. She will use the keys of all five senses to open wide the Gate of her family's home to delight and warmth and joy and gratitude. She will harness the powers of the senses to dispel the demons of despair, anger, irrelevance and yes, sometimes even cynicism.


Because she who guards the gate must also guard the magic.