Their efforts are a huge success, uniting their town, supporting their heroes and drowning out the hecklers. Within days, Shannon, with the help of her mom, Donna, had designed lawn signs, set up a donations page and mobilized the community to show their love and support for the embattled healthcare workers. After a public meeting to update residents on the danger of the raging pandemic, health officials were heckled to the point the meeting had to be adjourned. The light is Shannon O’Quinn from my hometown of Casper, Wyo. Considering I no longer commit to brushing my teeth every night, Daniel’s commitment is extraordinary. My guess is that he had no idea how long this pandemic would last, and yet he’s still tickling the keys every single night, taking requests and making us smile. Back in March, he committed to share his lovely music every night until the apocalypse was over. The light is Daniel Watts, who, for the past 263 nights, has charmed and entertained the Facebook world with his Governor Watts Apocalypse Piano Concerts. I’d share my friend’s name, but, in addition to being incredibly kind, she is humble. They’ve done it since March and they’ve done it with joy and humility. The light is my friend, who, along with her family, has prepared and delivered multiple meals every week to a large number of folks in need. Where is the joy of the season? Where is the light?Īfter sitting up most of the night, pondering the sadness around me, I think I’ve found it. But I’m finding it difficult to feel the anticipation of celebration and joy with the darkness that envelopes our country and world. Are we sure we don’t want talk about Christmas cookies?Ĭhristmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa and the winter solstice are all upon us, all celebrations of joy and light. Sickness, unemployment, racial injustice, isolation, evictions, business closures, food insecurity, conspiracy theories, division, mistrust, anger, hatred, death. headed for dark winter” and “Pandemic will bring dark times” don’t inspire holiday cheer.Īs we approach the “happiest” time of the year (which, by the way, isn’t actually “happy” for a large percentage of the world), it’s hard to see beyond the dark, angry clouds hanging over our heads. Everywhere I turn, I hear and see the predictions of darkness ahead. Should I publish my favorite recipe for raspberry thumbprint cookies? Do you want to hear about my favorite Christmas carol or the precious expressions on my children’s faces when they open gifts? With every tick of the clock, I’m desperately trying to think of a cheery Christmas message to share with you. 7 and I have a deadline for a column staring me in the face.
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