Darkness in December

We entered one shop after another, each one more festively decorated than the one before it.   December had just begun and already our voices were overcome by the refrains of all the usual Christmas melodies.   I began to think there was a conspiracy to singe the message that “it’s the most wonderful time of the year” into the convoluted pathways of my brain.  There seemed to be a conspiracy to convince me that the words to the songs are true; to make me believe that nothing can go wrong during this marvelous, glittering season.   I would love to believe that December and the Christmas holidays will somehow shield me and those I love from sickness, death and all things painful, large and small.  But somehow, I’m just not buying it this year.  More than ever I feel vulnerable; I don’t feel especially protected by this “special, magical” time of year.  Maybe it’s the horrors of random shootings; maybe it’s my age and the all too frequent funerals I seem to be attending lately.    Whatever it is, I react to the message as I would to a bold lie.  I find it insulting and demeaning.

Then I walk out into the street and see the tree.  It is at the very end of a long, narrow wooden pier, jutting out into the angry lake.  It is late in the day and the sky is prematurely darkened by the ominous clouds blowing furiously this way and that.  It is a somber scene yet strangely I am pulled right towards it.   In spite of the cold, powerful wind, I walk quickly across the boards.  through the chilly mist.  I am looking down into the black, white caped waves on either side of me as my steps hasten and I realize I am almost running through the chilly mist.  Finally, I am pleased to be standing directly in front of this tree that is speaking so clearly to my heart.   It contains no fancy ornaments, and it is simple but not perfect.  The meager scattering of white bulbs with one larger white bulb at the top is just what I want it to be.   Somehow, it gives me solace and I can’t really explain why.   I think about my reaction and consider why I am reacting so strongly.   Maybe this scene represented truth to me.  The truth that people I knew and loved got sick and even died right smack in the midst of this “most wonderful time of the year”.  The truths that people still get tired and stressed and feel sad.  The fact that there is no holiday break to war and violence and terror.   And, the realities that people are still hungry and thirsty and lack the basic necessities.  This lone tree says to me I don’t have to pretend that all is jolly and bright.  It tells me that life is not perfect, and truth continues in spite of the dazzling lights and intense excitement that jitters my nerves and rattles my soul.   I like the simplicity of this tree, I like the truth it expresses, and I like the fact – even though it is a bit weird and maybe a bit depressing in and of itself - that I am old enough to acknowledge and be at peace with some of the darkness in December.