The film festival was created to revitalize a stricken neighborhood and bolster local businesses. There’s no doubt that last year at this time we needed revitalizing in a big way, when we still jumped at every loud noise and flinched at the sight of low flying aircraft. Downtown was still home, but home no longer felt safe. The street fair was like a tonic.

This year’s fair had many of the features of last year’s. We ran into friends and neighbors, saw celebrities, like Alan Cumming, who was promoting a movie, dodged a barrage of corporate advertising (I narrowly escaped having someone slap GM stickers on my children), and enjoyed a Felliniesque feeling as we strolled past juggling stilt walkers and the occasional dragon. We made beaded necklaces, collected free t-shirts and balloons, watched a dance performance, ate dinosaur cookies, and pulled the tail of Clifford the big red dog.

We arrived at 10:30. Two-and-a-half hours later the crowds had mushroomed and our stamina was waning. We retreated to Washington Market Park, where two days earlier the lawns had been reopened. My two four-year-olds flew the paper kites they had made at the fair.

As I sat in the newly sprouted grass, the upbeat rhythms of the street fair in the background seemed to make the gray sky brighten. My son, Nicholas, ran past me with his green and yellow kite flapping behind him. “It’s a miracle! The grass is normal. The trees are normal,” he said.

I hope the festival has boosted local businesses, but revitalization is about much more than money. Yes, I thought, he’s right. Normal. It’s a miracle.