The house permeates with the smell of baking. The Christmas tree is snug in its corner. We have prepared the extra beds and bought groceries for a large crowd.
All the children are either home already or will be here soon and the house echos with laughter, elation and merriment. We haven’t all been under the same roof since last summer. I look at these dear faces and my heart bursts with love.
But when I step outside, the weather is rainy and overcast with clouds that hang so low, they seem to wrap us all in a gray shroud.
And like the gray clouds that invade every corner of the everlasting horizon, everywhere I go this holiday season I am enveloped in thoughts of the little children who died in Connecticut, of their parents, of their siblings. Of their town. Our town.
The grief and suffering of this little town seem so immense, so overwhelming, I feel they cannot possibly endure it alone. We all – the entire country, the entire world – need to lift a bit of their load and help them get through this most difficult of times. I feel that when I carry them in my thoughts and in my heart, I am not turning my back on them, I am with them. I am bearing witness.
The most moving words I read this year was this quote by Robbie Parker, the father of Emily Parker, the little girl who died in the shooting. Within 24 hours of the shooting he said to Adam Lanza’s family, “I can’t imagine how hard this experience must be for you, and I want you to know that our family and our love and our support goes out to you as well.”
May we all be so compassionate and merciful.
I send my love to the families in Newtown, CT.
I send my love to all my readers.