On Christmas Eve, God bless us all

This is a time of year when many of us become enraptured by the promise of what's to be found under the tree tomorrow. Too many of us forget that there are others that have no tree, nor anything to put under it and no roof over it. One of my favorite Christmas tree ornaments presumes someone lucky enough to have a dog. I am such a someone. During the course of my life, I've been blessed with the companionship of many. Each has helped make where I am "home."

may Christmas find you at home with your dog

Photo by J. Harrington

I'm also fortunate to have a loving family and something approximating reasonable health. I have much more than most of those suffering in or escaping from Aleppo. I suspect you do too. We no doubt have material treasures and comfort that exceeds what's experienced by those at Standing Rock. On the spiritual side, on the community side, I'm not so sure. Perhaps the greatest gift we could be given for Christmas tomorrow is to give ourselves a determination to try, for the next year, for "peace on earth, good will toward men," instead of "peace on earth to men of good will." If only those deemed "of good will" are to enjoy peace, it will undoubtedly elude the rest of us too. The sun shines on all alike. Let us hope that the same will be true of peace. May we all have the companionship of wonderful dogs and may our sleeping dogs find peaceful places to lie.

Tiny Tim had it right. "God bless us, everyone!"

Holidays

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 1807 - 1882

The holiest of all holidays are those
    Kept by ourselves in silence and apart;
    The secret anniversaries of the heart,
    When the full river of feeling overflows;—
The happy days unclouded to their close;
    The sudden joys that out of darkness start
    As flames from ashes; swift desires that dart
    Like swallows singing down each wind that blows!
White as the gleam of a receding sail,
    White as a cloud that floats and fades in air,
    White as the whitest lily on a stream,
These tender memories are;— a Fairy Tale
    Of some enchanted land we know not where,
    But lovely as a landscape in a dream.

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