Friday, October 16, 2009

Birth Stories

The Legend of Ezra Oak

Ezra Oak was born in a church on a brisk, October evening. The same church he was conceived nine months earlier. The same church his parents moved into three years before that, and the same church that has sat atop a hill of a small town for a hundred years.

Though the beginning and the end of the pregnancy happened in a church, his mother spent most of the pregnancy in buildings of science, and that is where his birth began. Without warning, among the pheromones of birds of all species, his mother’s bag of waters burst. Since she was not expecting him for several days his mother, now joined by his father, finished preparing for Ezra’s arrival and returned to their home.

Ezra was eager. From the beginning, contractions were strong and close. His mother moaned, breathed, cried, and screamed. His father held her hand. They awaited assistance. She was hot. She opened windows filling the church with a cool, autumn breeze. Could the neighbors hear? People arrived and she pushed. She had little rest. His father still held her hand. She was strong. A black cat watched. A second one hid. A little girl stopped catching fairies for a moment to announce the emergence of his head. Ezra’s body quickly followed. His grey skin turned pink with his first breath. He was quiet but not yet content. He found his place on his mother’s breast. She placed a yellow hat over his dark hair. She kept him warm. She fed him. He was happy. The life of Ezra Oak had begun.

The following is one in a series of five birth stories told by people present that day.   In addition to this account, told by Garry, you can read about Ezra's birth according to Amanda, Amy, Stefanie, and Postilius.

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