An Old Fashioned Christmas (RePost)

I know that I have, recently, written about a wonderful memory of Christmas past, and I'm sure that most of us do have those fond memories. We long for things to be that way again, and wish that we could see through the eyes of a child again, where everything is good, and right with the world. We all long for just an old fashioned Christmas.

I have my precious memories, but now, as I write this, I just cannot get into the "spirit of Christmas" that everyone speaks of, and longs for, because try as I may, I can't get into that state of "willing suspension of disbelief"-- a semi-conscious decision in which you put aside your disbelief and accept the premise as being real for the duration of the movie you're watching, or the story you're reading--because this is real life, with real people, with real emotions, and I am acutely aware of the pain which exists all around me.

This is the time of year when people try to achieve a level of perfection, which in most cases, just does not exist. They long for the perfect life, the perfect family, perfect kids. They think of peace on earth, and good will toward all men--that does not exist, either, and I can't pretend it does, because I can't forget that there are children going to bed hungry, that there are old people who are sick, and alone, and cold because they can't pay a heating bill and a prescription bill, too.

I am aware that there are young mothers, struggling to make a living for their children, yearning for some kind of normalcy in their lives, but knowing that it is pretty much a lost cause. I am aware that there are whole families who are next to being homeless, through no fault of their own, with no way out of their hopelessness.

I am aware that people are fighting, and killing each other, for no reason other than self-gratification, and I can't forget that there are wars where people are killing and being killed for the sake of peace.

I can't pretend that all of that is not happening. I can't close my eyes to reality and and pretend that this is a season when everyone is happy and satisfied, and loving his fellow man. I wish that were true, but I know that it is what it is, and I can't change it.

I am so thankful for what I have, and for anything that I am able to do to make things better for others, and I will never, ever, take that for granted.

My heartfelt wish is that all of you will have peace of mind, love in your hearts, and peace in your homes during this Christmas and Holiday Season. May it continue long after the season is past.

Live And Let Live

There are hermit souls that live withdrawn
In the place of their self-content;
There are souls like stars, that dwell apart,
In a fellowless firmament;
There are pioneer souls that blaze their paths
Where highways never ran-
But let me live by the side of the road
And be a friend to man. -

Let me live in a house by the side of the road,
Where the race of men go by-
The men who are good and the men who are bad,
As good and as bad as I.
I would not sit in the scorner's seat,
Or hurl the cynic's ban-
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man. -

I see from my house by the side of the road,
By the side of the highway of life,
The men who press with the ardor of hope,
The men who are faint with the strife.
But I turn not away from their smiles nor their tears,
Both parts of an infinite plan-
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

I know there are brook-gladdened meadows ahead
And mountains of wearisome height;
That the road passes on through the long afternoon
And stretches away to the night.
But still I rejoice when the travelers rejoice.
And weep with the strangers that moan,
Nor live in my house by the side of the road
Like a man who dwells alone. -

Let me live in my house by the side of the road-
It's here the race of men go by.
They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong,
Wise, foolish- so am I;
Then why should I sit in the scorner's seat,
Or hurl the cynic's ban?
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

"The House by the Side of the Road"

By Sam Walter Foss
Librarian and Poet

1858-1911