Every time we were cleaning up, Dad would sing his goofy "tidy time" song... all these years later I still recall it every time I tidy up. It becomes the silent theme song of my actions.
Alyssa was the "Marie Kondo" of our community, so gifted at cleaning up. She took a joy in it that was wonderfully catching - the kind of bug everyone wants to get. She had the sort of intelligence that makes life better for everyone.
Cleaning up for each other was an important step in re-educating our brains - that we have team-mates-for-life, that the individualistic competition of the old age had passed already.
The street clean up was more than making the streets feel loving and safe for all, we offered to go into homes and help to restore them. We helped our neighbours to feel that they had a home they could thrive in rather than simply pass the days. It was an important part of breathing real life into our communities.
When we had thanked God for the harvest, when we had thanked the farmers who worked so hard to bring it in, when every stomach was satisfied, when every soul was nourished... we cleaned up the plates, put on good music and danced into the sunset.
The forgotten garb of years had lain for an age unmoved. Yet once the choice to clean up was made, once the strong oak beams were cleared, free to shine in the sunlight once more, the beauty of the whole house was revealed.
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