When
I was in elementary school, roughly spanning second through fourth grades, each
child received a monthly coloring book, printed in black and white, with a
theme for the particular month. So October would be fall, November was
Thanksgiving, December was Christmas, and so on. Each page had a different
scene or object, and periodically throughout the month, the class would color a
page or two, and when finished, take the coloring book home.
My
mother kept every one of them, and consequently they now sit in a box in our
basement, along with old report cards, drawings and artwork I did, all the
things my mother decided were “keepers.”
These
seasonal coloring books were clearly designed for classrooms in colder climes,
likely the Midwest and Northeast. Why did I know that? Because the October
issue always had fall as its theme, and we didn’t have fall in New Orleans,
although I had seen it once or twice while visiting relatives in Shreveport.
The January and February issues were always about playing in the snow. And I do
remember snow in New Orleans – twice, in fact, once when I was 7 and the second
time when I was 12. (I also remember my father scooping up snow from outside
and making something he had enjoyed as a child – snow ice cream.) But the snow
in those coloring books was about mounds of the stuff, not the paltry snowfalls
we had in New Orleans.
The
trees in those coloring books were different, too – pines and maples and things
that shed leaves. I was more familiar with live oaks, cypresses, mimosas and
palm trees.
We
didn’t have a sharply defined fall. It wasn’t the stereotyped joke about New
Orleans weather – that the city had three seasons: summer, July and August. But
out seasons were less distinct. The heat of summer gradually lessened in
September and October (October can be a glorious month in New Orleans), and you
might even be wearing a jacket or light sweater in November.
Those
coloring books, though – there was sometimes a sense that you were missing
something. Sledding. Ice-skating. Skiing. Snowball fights. Building snowmen.
Wild swaths of golden and red trees. (Raking leaves wasn’t something anyone
would miss.) And tulips in the spring – every April coloring book had tulips, and
it is a flower that didn’t – couldn’t – grow in New Orleans.
Living
for the last 32 years in the Midwest, I’ve seen more than my fair share of
snow, not to mention leaves that needed raking. But Fall is still my favorite
time of the year. I think it’s because I’ve always associated it with
beginnings – like the beginning of school (or the beginning of school and the
football season in college).
Every
season, including Fall, is a season of faith. In one sense, it’s a season that
lasts all year long. In another sense, the season of faith goes through its own
changes and growth. These days, I find myself thinking about those coloring
books from childhood, and how, in a way, they did what faith does: always
there, always changing, something you had to work at, something that was a
reminder of something that might be better and more complete one day.
Over
at Faith Barista, Bonnie Gray is
hosting a blog carnival on the journey of faith as you enter the fall season.
To see more posts, please visit Faith Barista.
