This week we are asked to weave a tale about one of your unbirthdays
Cyril Rum, Angel of Heaven and on sabbatical on earth was fascinated by all things human.
The concept of a birthday intrigued him because being an angelic body the notion of a start date to his existence never was an issue and so the suggestion that there was a date to celebrate his beginning was foreign to him.
When you live in a world that is eternal the start of that eternity does get lost in time if time was a construct of that existence. Cyril and his angel companions had always been so when he arrived on earth and befriended his neighbour Mildred Thrup he was eager to learn the ways of these humans whose existence was very finite he discovered.
Mildred had come in one morning and mentioned that it was her birthday. Cyril asked her what that meant and Mildred ever eager to air her knowledge told Cyril all she knew about birthdays and in particular the importance of hers.
Until Cyril came along Mildred had celebrated her birthday very quietly, the date came around each year, and Mildred cringed at the thought of another year going by, a few more grey hairs and wrinkles and the obvious slowing down of her body.
Mildred liked the idea of an unbirthday. So, did Cyril. It made sense to him as he didn’t have any date as such to claim as his own. Time, and all its dates, was something humanity wrapped itself up in and Cyril found the whole human experience of placing so much emphasis on a date in time hard to comprehend when in his experience there was no concept of time, things just were, or had been and were yet to come. It was very simple in his eyes but humans he found loved to complicate most things and time was one of their favourites.
So, Mildred thinking Cyril was a bit wacky anyway, liked to humour him with what day he might choose as his birthday. Cyril, on the other hand, was more into his unbirthday and decided to hold an unbirthday party on the 3rd day of the next month. There was no obvious reason for the third, just that Cyril liked the idea of a third.
Since he had no friends apart from Mildred and only a fleeting relationship with the other folk in the street it was decided by Mildred that she turn it into a street party and invite all the occupants along on the third.
Cyril had developed a sweet tooth during his time on earth and insisted that an upside-down cake would be most appropriate. He wanted decorations but balloons that the party goers would blow up if so moved, and then hang them from the curtains, and games like pin the tail on the donkey only in Cyril’s unbirthday head it was a matter of being blindfolded and then trying to find the donkey with the tail and remove it.
Mildred did marvel at the impish nature of Cyril’s mind. If he was an angel as he claimed she thought he would surely have a party with fanfare, pomp and wonder.
Cyril was not about to give away too much of his true nature, rather he was excited to explore the nature of his own humanity having been among humans for some time and how much of that was rubbing off on him.
So, the third of the month arrived, and the neighbours all came in to enjoy Cyril’s unbirthday.
Socially a raging success, the games were plentiful, Cyril laughed himself silly at the antics of the French children whilst bobbing for apples, the efforts of little Lorraine deCoup whose determination to eat all the donuts tied to the clothes line was remarkable in itself and the skill and agility of Mildred and Betsy Lacey in winning the three-legged race.
There was the customary speech delivered by Cyril in thanking everyone for making the day the best way possible for him to celebrate his unbirthday and he avoided all questions as to his age. He wasn’t sure in earth years just how big that number might be.
Afterwards, as he and Mildred finished the clean-up and they settled back in the two chairs, Cyril had in his back yard and congratulated each other in pulling off not only Cyril’s unbirthday but the first street party ever to happen in their part of town.