In a sun-swathed park on the south side of Salem, 78 people gathered to celebrate a tiny man’s first birthday. When the right moment arrived, when all of the kimchi was eaten and all that was left of the Korean barbecue was a few smears of red in a dish, Billy’s family and friends gathered around his highchair.
His mother and grandmother had laid out a few things on his tray: a book, some pens, some money, a spool of thread, some food, all signifying Billy’s possible future.
What would he choose? What would this little one-year-old boy become?
He surveyed the spread.
He looked to his mother for advice and help. And he reached for the sticky rice and bean pods closest to him.
The crowd roared and Billy pulled his hand back. His mother, thinking perhaps that the food was placed too close to Billy’s right hand, removed the plate.
He reached for the future.
And he chose the pen — signifying that he might become a scholar. A child after my own heart — perhaps a food writer?
Oh, how easier my life would have been if I had simply been given a chance to reach for the pen in a ceremony at my first birthday.
Here is the future scholar with his grandma, who made much of the food at the celebration. Happy Birthday!
Thank you…