One of my favorite holiday past times occurs after the rest of the household has gone to bed.
Grabbing a good book and a glass of wine, I turn off all of the lights in the house except those on the Christmas tree, put an assortment of Christmas music on the stereo, and settle into the recliner. The relaxation is so complete that it's not uncommon for me to find myself waking from a slumped slumber in the wee hours of the morning.
In Connecticut there are over two dozen families that will struggle to find comfort and joy in the Christmas season for many years to come. For these families the gaily decorated tree, the carols of the season, and the smell of Christmas treats in the oven will all serve as reminders of what was lost.
Were I to be granted a single Christmas miracle this year, I would wish Newton Connecticut to wake to the virginity of fresh snow on Christmas morning and discover every bed in every household occupied. That every member of this community, as it was on December 13, would go about their annual traditions without a care. That the bells in church steeples would tell of nothing more than a baby's birth.
May God bless us everyone.
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