The day after Thanksgiving, I found myself at the flagship Macy’s store in Manhattan with The Wife, The Daughter, my eldest niece, her husband, and a couple of their friends. I also saw a guy I knew from Albany walk by.
The Macy’s windows are great, because they’re so imaginative. On one set of windows was the retelling of Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus, that famous New York Sun editorial from 1897, complete with a backstory about the girl and her family. It’s certainly why I know there’s a Saint Nick, who’s black and white and Hispanic and Asian and all sorts of colors.
I believe in the love of Jesus, too, who almost certainly wasn’t born in December, but rather under the sign of Aries or Pisces, not that it much matters. Got into a debate recently about how Christianity has led to lots of wars, and such – I’ve had that conversation a LOT, as you might imagine – but, for me, that comes from people misconstruing the Word. And, as John Lennon wrote, “the Word is love.”
You can call it magic, or hoodoo, or myth, and I’m all right with that. Faith is kind of like that. Like the love the Pope showed to immigrants recently.
In the midst of hate, I found there was, within me, an invincible love.
In the midst of tears, I found there was, within me, an invincible smile.
In the midst of chaos, I found there was, within me, an invincible calm.
I realized, through it all, that…
In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.
~ Albert Camus