The Love And The Light

"So this is Christmas
And what have you done?
Another year over
And a new one just begun
And so this is Christmas
I hope you had fun
The near and the dear ones
The old and the young..."

–Happy Xmas (War Is Over), John & Yoko/Plastic Ono Band with the Harlem Community Choir

At first it was comical -- all of us trying to figure out the bike riding to a local state park for a holiday faire. Our oldest daughter Beatrice wanted to ride my e-bike that I never ride, which was fine. But then when our youngest daughter Bryce got on the new bike we bought for her, one she'd already ridden to school, she lost her balance and fell over. She scratched her knee and was okay otherwise, but she broke the basket for the front of the bike, the one she puts her backpack in to and from school. Fortunately it still attaches to the handlebars. 

I was going to concede to ride Amy's old Schwinn, but even after raising the seat, I still felt like a circus bear riding a tricycle. Then Bryce wanted to ride Amy's newer Huffy, which was broken recently until we got fixed, so Bryce rode that one, I rode the new bike that was supposed to be for Bryce (with handlebars that needed tightening and brakes that needed adjusting), Amy rode the old Schwinn, and Bea rode my e-bike. All that took about 20 minutes to sort out. 

No matter how many times we've tried over the years, we've just never been a bike family. But, we have had some lovely bike rides together, and this time was no exception. It was a lovely December early afternoon riding along the bike path, with hazy cloud streaks muting the blue sky that met the sea. It was cool out, but not cold, and the bike ride to Wilder Ranch State Park was pleasant. The old-fashioned holiday faire was smaller than it usually was pre-covid, with still many families making candles, wreaths, ornaments, potpourri bags, and drinking cider and hot chocolate. 

Riding back home I was grateful we were able to do this as a family, that the worst thing we had to worry about was who was riding what bike. That's when I thought about families who have a lot more to worry about. Poverty, illness, war, violence, and death. 

My family doesn't have to worry about those things, at least, not directly like the families living them today. Indirectly, anything can happen at any time, but I don't dwell on that like I used to. I'm grateful for the now. For being able to live comfortably today without illness, war, violence, or God forbid, death. 

And speaking of God, when I was a child, I really wanted to believe that little baby Jesus would save the world, especially during Christmastime. That's when I was always the most hopeful about the world. But then I came to learn that it was always on us to save the world from the dark things. 

And save the world we still can. At least I want to believe that for me and my family. And yours, too. I'm a hopelessly sentimental and hopeful human. Even in the darkest moments of my past, or the world's, I've been that way, always believing that ultimately there is only love and light, that we can see it that way, and make it that way.

As we neared home on our bikes, I looked at the sea one more time before we lost sight of it, and all I saw was the love and the light. 

However you celebrate the holidays, blessings to you and yours. You may never be as hopelessly sentimental as me, but believe it or not, being hopeful and making a daily difference is easier than you think. 

"So this is Christmas, and what have you done?"