Like something out of Norman Rockwell (1894-1978), my best Christmas memories date from our brief Stratford years (1968-1973) when we were all together as a family, alive and well, active in the community. I sang in the church choir, Bill was a deacon, the kids were with us—just the girls—John helped with the radio broadcast; Matt waved to me in the choir loft as he made his way out to Sunday school. Our church community (United) went to one church on Christmas Eve. We went to a couple of parties first but met with the kids to attend a midnight service there, where I sang with a collective choir. I still remember the feeling of that evening, the last “normal’ year of my/ our lives. (Bill died the following April.) It is a lovely memory and I cherish it.

We all take our blessings for granted. Right now as we are under siege and going through a Christmas we have never experienced before, do pause and think of those who have never had festivities like ours. I came across a line attributed to Peanuts by Charles Schulz (1922-2000).

When we are stressed, Remember we’re blessed.

We are, we are still blessed.