Beware of symbolism gone awry. Plans for a skating rink on the Frog Pond were announced with much fanfare over a year ago. Since then, building and opening the thing has been a nightmare. Contractors were hired, then fired. Deadlines slipped from 1996 to 1997. When it finally opened in mid-January, the Mayor was in the hospital, unable to attend. Someone had forgotten to put locks on the public restroom doors. And the first official day of skating was wiped out by 55 degree weather and a rainstorm.

Even now much work remains. Food stands are temporary affairs, the area around the rink is unlandscaped and looks like a construction site.

Harbingers of Boston’s fall? Or just a bunch of mistakes and some bad luck?

For all of the difficulties it has had and will probably still have, the reincarnation of the Frog Pond as a winter skating rink and a summer wading pond is a profound sign of Boston’s renaissance as the hub of New England and as a great place to live and work. It is also, for those cynical of politicians and political institutions, an example of how thoughtful government can work to better people’s lives.

For years the Frog Pond had served as little more than a collecting basin for trash and dirt. There was no reason to be there and as a result, no one went there. Virtually a third of the Common, the nation’s oldest public park, was bleak, barren and often dangerous. Although people had for years advanced notions for redoing the area, nothing came to fruition. Indeed, there often seemed a mind set that public goods such as parks were of much less priority than other budget items.

When Mayor Thomas Menino arrived in office he came with a philosophy that stressed the importance of investment in basic city infrastructure. Writ large, the argument he advanced was that little things were the root causes of big social problems. It was a philosophy I shared. In order to reverse problems such as crime, the collapse of residential neighborhoods, and the migration of business out of the city, we needed to focus on the basics of city living. That meant doing things such as fixing potholes, cracking down on graffiti … and reinvesting in our parks.

Rather than being a place to avoid, the Frog Pond will now become a magnet for workers on their lunch breaks, tourists and residents. For Beacon Hill residents in particular, it is one more compelling argument for living in and raising a family in the city.

The symbolism of the Frog Pond skating rink is not that the city is collapsing, but that reviving it takes work. I’ve dusted off my skates and sharpened their blades. The first few turns on the rink were tough. My ankles were weak, I fell a few times, and my stopping technique involves crashing into the boards. But I’ll get there. So too will Boston.