December 14: Twelfth Night Party, Growing Older, P.O.E.T.S. Day

...It was strange, too, that while Scrooge remained unalterable in his outward form, the Ghost grew older, clearly older.  Scrooge had observed this change, but never spoke of it, until they left a children's Twelfth Night party, when, looking at the Spirit as they stood together in an open place, he noticed that its hair was grey.

It is a long night for Scrooge and the Ghost of Christmas Present.  Obviously.  The Ghost is aging before Scrooge's eyes.  The Twelfth Night party indicates that, at the end of the time they spend together, the entire twelve days of Christmas have passed, from December 25 to the Feast of the Epiphany.  Time is fluid, moving slowly and quickly, and The Ghost is in a yuletide warp.

It feels like I've been in a kind of time warp myself today.  The morning was long.  My computer at the office went for a sleigh ride to the cyber North Pole.  I couldn't get it to do anything for me.  I struggled for a couple hours, called I.T., hit it with my fist twice.  Finally, after rebooting a few times and swearing several times, I was able to get my computer work done.

Then, I left work and went grocery shopping.  I had a short list.  A really short list.  It took me over an hour to get out of Wal-Mart.  As I was pushing my cart through the snow to my car, I felt like I was on day eleven of Christmas, hungover on eggnog.  I still had to clean my house and get it ready for my daughter's birthday party.

By the time relatives showed up on my doorstep at 6 p.m., I think I was completely grey.  I could have crawled into bed and taken a nap.  Right before the party started, I turned on the TV.  That was when I saw the news of the elementary school shooting in Connecticut.  Twenty kids and seven adults slain.  Kindergartners.  First graders.  Second graders.  I kept listening to the reports, kept saying over and over, "What is wrong with the world?"

At this time of year, I can't believe such tragedy can happen.  There are mothers and fathers who have presents wrapped under their Christmas trees for children who will never come home.  There are plates of cookies that will not be left out for Santa Claus.  There are Christmas outfits that won't be worn to church.

On this P.O.E.T.S. Day, I'm feeling old.  Really old.  And sad.  Really sad.  As a parent, I want to hug my kids, let them know that love is more powerful than hate.  Hope is stronger than despair.  Light overcomes darkness.

Saint Marty will be saying a prayer tonight, for the children, for the teachers, for the broken world.

Praying for light...