It takes a village.
In New York City. Pursing my dream. I was hesitant about this trip from day one. I had bad dreams about it. Fear. I'm so glad I did not let my fears get in the way. I will never let my fears get in the way. That is one of the many lessons I will pass down to my daughter. I was scared about taking my tiny baby on a plane, and whizzing her around New York City in cabs, and breastfeeding her under a tent in Brooklyn in the rain. I kept wondering, am I a bad mother? Is this too much? I talked about these fears with my husband, and he washed them out of my mind and out of my mouth and we moved forward. The five of us. My brother and sister-in-law, my husband, my baby.
It takes a village flying, driving, selling, talking, feeding, walking. We woke up to gray skies. I left my daughter and my husband sleeping in a hotel room. We set up my booth and filled it with things I have made with my own two hands. We sold and sold and it rained and the rain stopped and we put charms together and creativity was brewing under that tent and it rained and then it stopped. My husband brought our baby to me so I could feed her. We wondered if she would be too cold, but she was very warm because we held her close to our bodies. Our hearts were warm. The four of us held her close to our hearts. Our little warm village under a tent in Brooklyn.
The sun finally came, and we kept on making things and selling. Tripled sales from last year. I felt like a success. The trip was a success. We celebrated in Little Italy. We talked about our Italian grand parents. My baby slept on my chest. I dreamed about her little hands making things one day. We went back to our Soho home and slept and had nice dreams.
On our last day, I took her to the Village. We stood in front of Cafe Wha? and I thought about Bob Dylan, and then we walked to Washington Square Park, and sat on a bench and I nursed my baby and thought about all the creative people who flocked to this park with heavy hearts and empty pockets and minds filled with ideas. I thought of Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger and Bob Dylan as I fed my baby girl until her belly was full, with the sun shining down on us in the Village. I was warm. My heart was full.
It was time to go home. As I walked away from the Village, I sang Bob Dylan's Dream to my baby girl as I held her in my arms, walking past Bleeker Street, a little sad to leave, a little sad the village changed. Wishing it never did. I was singing a song to her about change and time passing.
It takes a village, indeed. Our village will change. Time will pass. Our hearts will keep filling with warmth and love. Our village will grow and my baby will grow and have babies and have a village of her own one day. I hope it is as full of love as this village is.
4 comments:
This is so wonderful. What a special trip. One day, you will tell her all about her first time in NYC, and she will be so proud of her mama. Congrats on a successful event - personally and professionally! & thanks for sharing. xoxo.
Brava!!! I am glad fear did not stand in the way of what turned out to be a beautiful experience! Those moments: strangers' comments in airports, nursing under a tent, discovering how your village makes it work... those are the priceless.
can't get over these pictures...or your story. I wish my mother had written things down like you. your little one will be so appreciative down the line. congrats on all you're doing! I'm so thrilled to have found your blog! xoxo {av}
What a beautiful post. Glad you had such a loving quality trip and great sales:)
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