Seth was four when he was introduced to the world of fireworks. We had a neighbor who loved to put on a firework show for the entire neighborhood. Every year, she would drive across the state line, from Utah to Wyoming, to pick up a wide selection of the best fireworks money could buy.
Sometimes she would even hire a limo driver to chauffeur her across the border to her [not entirely legal] fireworks shopping spree (supposedly to eliminate the risk of police pulling her over—must’ve worked). Her brilliant firework show would last three to four hours, and by the end of it all, our neighborhood would be completely covered in a rain of firework debris.
During the show, Seth would gaze on in absolute amazement. He fell in love with the entire process and the show, from the lighting of the fuse to the colorful explosion of light. When it was over, it never left his thoughts. Throughout the rest of the year, his anticipation would build as he eagerly awaited the next display of light.
One year, we gave him his own set of fireworks. He wouldn’t let them go, even when he went to bed. He was so enamored with them. He even found a lighter and kept it with his fireworks. (Don’t worry, it had a safety feature! There were no accidental explosions in our household!) We tried to make sure he didn’t fall asleep with the lighter alongside his fireworks, but somehow it always ended up by his side. For him, it completed the set; which is true, since you can’t have fireworks without the fire.
His passion and curiosity towards fireworks is a sight to see. I also enjoy a good firework display, but I can’t match Seth in his creative wonder and amazement in all things.