In all of our haste and panic in the last month -- just like every year -- we forget what today is supposed to be about. We don't remind ourselves often enough what a treasure belief is, and what the birth of a baby thousands of years ago would ultimately mean for the world.
Even for those who are not spiritual (or whose spirituality has lapsed, like me), no other day of the year speaks so loudly to the power of one person to change the world. No day speaks so loudly of the value of our children and the endless, hopeful potential that they represent. Of all of the days of the year, this one says that we can be better than we are, that we can rise above the noise and desperation and hate and soar like angels.
This is the Day of days. And we get one every year just like it.
I wish there were two.
Merry Christmas, Everybody.