#51 Blowing on Coals

When I was a little girl, I loved reading stories about the old days in this country. They always made me appreciate basic things I took for granted-like heat and warmth and light. In a world without matches, keeping the fire going was so important. In more than one of these stories, a child in a family whose fire had gone out had the job of getting a shovelful of coals from the neighbors. I could feel the urgency of the mission, the sense of responsibility, as a child carefully guarded the glowing coals, on a trip through a snowy night, bringing warmth and light and energy back to a home grown cold and dark.
The stories of banking the fire at night are less dramatic, but in a way more compelling. To conserve on wood, they would cover the fire, reducing the flow of air, so that it would burn very slowly through the night. In the morning it might seem dead, but when some hardy early riser uncovered the coals and blew and blew, some of those coals would begin to glow. With enough blowing, they grew hot enough to set a bit of tinder alight-and the fire was once again alive, ready to provide heat and light.
This blowing on coals evokes mystery and magic. It is an act of faith and of power. We don't have the power to create life where there is none, yet we can uncover the heart of something that seemed cold and literally breathe it back into life. Sometimes it takes the littlest puff, sometimes just one good hard blow. Other times, ash blows in your eyes, you get red in the face, and you wonder if your lungs are going to burst. But what a glow of satisfaction when that first little flame jumps out!
There is something about coals that calls to me. They are so warm, so ready. I've been wondering if that's part of what we're in this world to do-to have an eye out for the places around us where no fire is visible, but the coals still have life-and to be willing to blow. We can help ease away the overlay of uncaring, the dead covering of fear and discouragement. We can breath out our hope, love and confidence in that person or that situation. We can get in close, breathe deep, and give it our all. What would happen in this world if all those banked fires-in hearts and programs and communities-could burst into open flame?
Of course there are times when the fire has gone all the way out, when we left it too long or something unexpected happened and there is no life left in the coals. That's the time to put on a warm coat, get out the shovel, and give thanks that we have neighbors.

12/06