Celebrating New Year’s Day
I found him sitting in a rocker on the front porch soaking up the morning sun. “ John” I asked, “Why do we celebrate New Year’s Day?” He stopped rocking and gazed off across the pasture to the far grove of sycamore trees that grow along the San Gabriel River as if he were looking for the answer. The sycamore’s bare white limbs fairly glowed in the sun, perhaps sending him the answer.
Then John began rocking again, creating a gentle beat as the chair creaked back and forth across the rough boards of the porch. “Well,” John began, “Many, many years ago, out west of Llano or Mason or perhaps even Menard, Og Rekab lived with his clan in a cave high on a hill. From the mouth of the cave one could see for miles and miles to the west; all the way to the distant horizon. At the entrance to the cave grew a small, skinny sycamore sapling. One fall evening, as the sun approached sun down, he noticed the shadow of the sapling trunk was projected on the back wall of the cave. He made a mark on the rock wall with a charcoal stick. A few days later as the sun set, he noticed the shadow had moved over a bit. But Og also noticed a frightening thing was also happening to all the trees, the leaves turned brown and fell to the ground. And the grass had turned brown. But worst of all, the game was all gone. The next day as the sun sunk low and the shadow was on the wall, it was further over still. Was the sun, the giver of life, going away? Fear gripped the clan. And the shadow moved further. The clan sang their most pleading chants, and danced their most persuasive dances, asking for the sun to return. But the shadow kept moving.” John continued, “Then one day Og noted the movement of the shadow on the cave wall stopped moving! Soon it moved back the other way! And the shadow of the sycamore sapling on the back of the cave wall continued to move back from where it had come. The sun was returning! Og Rekab shouted to the clan that all was going to be well again. Og declared a holiday. They cooked the last of the black-eyed peas with ham hock, and a big pan of cornbread and had a feast in honor of the returning sun. Og declared that this day, hence forth would be known as ‘New Year’s Day’.”
John Steel stopped rocking. All was still. He looked up at me with that mischievous grin of his, but said nothing.
“You expect me to believe that?”, I asked.
“No” John said, “But if I told you the truth, you wouldn’t believe that either.”
“Well John, get you coat and hat”, I said, “I‘ll buy you a Starbucks at the Exxon station and we will celebrate New Year’s Day.”