Earth Hour Here at Home

Both my children were adamant that we participate in earth hour this evening, even though my son and husband were to be out of town on a school father/son trip. Earth hour was organized by the WWF to call attention global warming. In cities across the globe citizens, businesses and civic buildings dimmed or shut off lights for one hour. Here in NYC that hour fell between 8:00-9:00pm. My eight-year-old daughter and I had just eaten dinner and were watching a movie when we noticed that it was 7:50. My daughter turned off the movie, and I lit three candles, one for each side of the house. Then we grabbed two flashlights and went to huddle in my bedroom. The cool dark soothed us and we marvelled at how different the city looked with fewer lights. She said that it was beautiful. When the Empire State building went dark, she squealed,"This is so exciting." We read a book together by flashlight, and every now and again walked around the house to see out all the windows, observing how many windows and buildings were dark. Mostly we enjoyed being so close, she and I, our legs and arms wrapped around each other and our big, soft, pink "blankie". We read, we cuddled, we talked - mother and duaghter navigating through the darkness, a glimpse of a world not even we can remember, a time when darkness necessitated that everything stop now, for a bit. At 9:00 pm the skyline lit up, and the Empire State building flashed brilliantly. As I put my daughter to bed, we thought about our night. Then she asked, "Just tell me one thing mommy --- why doesn't it snow in winter, and why is it cold when it should be hot and why is it hot when it should be cold? What's happening? And don't tell me that it isn't happening because I know that it is." I wiped the tears from the corner of her eye and held her worried heart close to mine. I answered, "The earth is in some trouble but some of the smartest people in the world are working on this, and so are your mom and dad." These words comforted her. Her words, however, haunted me. What will her future be like? Will she know the volumes of snow that I remembered from my childhood? I imagined the cold steely world of her future generated by the behaviors of today.