Three Hundred Forty

Twenty-five days until this year fizzles into history. I wish I could express joy at this fraction of a lifetime that’s ending, but when I recall the year, my eyes get cloudy and dark. I remember awful, ugly things that never should have happened. But, if I try hard enough, I am able to wash that pain away by remembering the goodness I witnessed during this year sliding to a close. The life we leave to future generations will be one worth leaving only if we do our damnedest to rip the horror from the headlines and replace it with charity and love. I realize my words sound hopelessly silly and maudlin. It doesn’t matter; that’s what we need. Let’s not let discomfort get in the way of humanity. Just this once?

About John Swinburn

"Love not what you are but what you may become."― Miguel de Cervantes
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