Shortly after we moved to NYC we made a pilgrimage to visit my childhood idol.
One rainy Saturday in early spring we took the subway to Time Square. In just two short blocks to the New York Public Library, what could possibly go wrong? On the first corner, both of our umbrellas were torn to pieces. We were indeed NYC’s newlings and never heard about Manhattan grade umbrellas. Thankfully the library's side entrance was open. Soon I was standing face to face with my idol. I finally met with Winnie the Pooh and most of his other friends and relations. It is true, I was dripping wet, and my idol looked also somehow worn out, beaten up and shabby. But outer appearances truly do not matter, not even in the slightest, when you make a pilgrimage.
I still remember my father reading to me and my sister at bed times all those enchanting stories from 100 Aker Wood, and of course, later myself, reading those stories to my sons. I vividly remember one evening almost catching Wizzle and two Woozles and another time discussing the merits of expotitions to the East and West Poles (after North and South have been already discovered).
For me, it was a meaningful and moving, almost eye-misty, pilgrimage while my practical wife Martina went to buy a new NYPL Lion umbrella in the library store. (Manhattan grade - we still have it.) On our way to pick up our coats at the side exit, I noticed the library marble stairs being worn off, in places almost by an inch. Just imagine hundreds and thousands and hundreds of thousands of feet walking up to this temple of knowledge, making their pilgrimage, eager to read, to learn, to discover, or for sentimental reasons as I did. Indeed, there are many different pilgrimages. This Palm Sunday we will remember and talk about pilgrimages, religious and spiritual, personal and collective. As we continue reading from the Song of Songs we will especially talk about pilgrimages of love.
One rainy Saturday in early spring we took the subway to Time Square. In just two short blocks to the New York Public Library, what could possibly go wrong? On the first corner, both of our umbrellas were torn to pieces. We were indeed NYC’s newlings and never heard about Manhattan grade umbrellas. Thankfully the library's side entrance was open. Soon I was standing face to face with my idol. I finally met with Winnie the Pooh and most of his other friends and relations. It is true, I was dripping wet, and my idol looked also somehow worn out, beaten up and shabby. But outer appearances truly do not matter, not even in the slightest, when you make a pilgrimage.
I still remember my father reading to me and my sister at bed times all those enchanting stories from 100 Aker Wood, and of course, later myself, reading those stories to my sons. I vividly remember one evening almost catching Wizzle and two Woozles and another time discussing the merits of expotitions to the East and West Poles (after North and South have been already discovered).
For me, it was a meaningful and moving, almost eye-misty, pilgrimage while my practical wife Martina went to buy a new NYPL Lion umbrella in the library store. (Manhattan grade - we still have it.) On our way to pick up our coats at the side exit, I noticed the library marble stairs being worn off, in places almost by an inch. Just imagine hundreds and thousands and hundreds of thousands of feet walking up to this temple of knowledge, making their pilgrimage, eager to read, to learn, to discover, or for sentimental reasons as I did. Indeed, there are many different pilgrimages. This Palm Sunday we will remember and talk about pilgrimages, religious and spiritual, personal and collective. As we continue reading from the Song of Songs we will especially talk about pilgrimages of love.
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| The Christopher Robin Moment of my son when he was about three on the morning after we moved to our first manse. |
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