December 25, 2004
Christmas and Peace
It's Christmas day, and here in Vermont, as always, we had a true Currier & Ives holiday: The snow falling, the fire crackling, the overly decorated tree overfilling the room. We argued this year over whether the giant tree meant more room for presents or less. I argued more. My parents argued less.
Last night, we went out to our country church and sang hymns and carols to candlelight. After caroling at a family friend's house (and snagging some cookies in return) we came home, settled in by the fire, and had a spirited reading of 'Twas The Night Before Christmas and A Child's Christmas in Wales.
This morning, as I said, we awoke to a round of snow flurries—opened a few presents, had a big breakfast, and then opened the rest. My pile at the end included numerous books, some new shirts, new silverware, and three new stock pots. In the super special category, I also received a framed painting from one of my mom's books and a dirty New York Times typesetter's apron from the days when the Times was still set in hot type.
All-in-all, it was a great and relaxing day—one I needed after a particularly rough week for a variety of reasons. Peace has been much on my mind recently both because of the seasons, but also because of some scary moments this week. The bombing of the Mosul dining hall struck the base where my best friend from high school is stationed. I nearly broke down on Tuesday when I realized that his base had been hit. He's been over there all fall (and will be for quite some time to come) and I spent time over Thanksgiving with his family and his brothers, both Army men themselves. It's been rough on the whole family, and Todd's always in our prayers.
What particularly horrified me about Tuesday was how immune I've become to the violence over there, and how I didn't even pay attention to the bombing originally—it took my mom calling with news that it struck troops from Fort Lewis for me to even think of Todd.
I fear that all over America, the same thing is happening: The violence is often enough and numbing enough that we don't pay much attention day-to-day. Even now, during the happy holidays, we can't forget that a war is on, and what that means to the millions of Americans with troops in harm's way.
God bless them and bring us peace as soon as possible.
Gosh. I knew you had at least one friend over there, but I didn't know that's where he was. I hope he's alright and that you get word of it soon. I know they just released the names of those killed, so hopefully he'll be absent from that list.