The Faithful Chiminea

AN OBSCURE AND very heavy package sat amongst the gifts. It was a present from Kevin, and no one could figure out what was enclosed. It was delivered on Christmas many years ago when the kids were much younger and smaller. Once opened, we were so thrilled to have a portable fireplace, made in Juarez, and built of clay. An authentic Chiminea, and a most unusual gift.

Chilly evenings brought forth special delight. Making sure nothing nearby could catch fire, we placed the Chiminea in the corner of the back yard patio, and we stuffed it full, cramming old branches and pine needles from the yard, school papers from old notebooks from past semesters (large donations provided from the children); and a Duraflame log to keep the fire going. With blankets and sweaters, we'd race to call our place on a rocking chair or swing.

Once fired up, a heavenly inferno would erupt, the wind would swoop down into its mouth, and create a tornado of shooting flames and sparks yards above the top of the Chiminea. It was hypnotizing to watch as embers would dance up and away into the darkness. And, even though we had our jackets and sweaters, the heat would blanket us. And we'd watch those flames and sparks, and "oo" and "ah", and tell stories, and laugh, and then quietly listen to the sparks pop.

And then the kids grew up, and we moved from this house. And, when we transported the Chiminea, it fell and broke, cracking the body and the mouth. For a year or so, it sat in the corner of the yard. I thought about taking a hammer to it and breaking it into pieces to put in the trash cans, but never did. And then last week, Dad was trimming branches from old trees in the back yard, and he created a nice little stack of timber, and started to burn it in small amounts, in this injured Chiminea.

As I joined him, I was reminded of all of the nights spent not long ago when the kids were young. And, I was even reminded of my youth, spending many summer evenings at the beach, near the fire pit, roasting hot dogs or making marshmellows, and hearing the waves crash behind me and smelling the salty air in each brisk breeze that swept across my face.

Fond memories, brought forth by the faithful Chiminea. Thank you Kevin, for giving such a special gift, for which we still use, and I am grateful for.