This afternoon of November 7th, the Lord has blessed Indianapolis with 72 degrees of bright warmth in defiance of humanity’s calendar. Anne and I enjoy a sunny walk through a day that could have been darker like others around it.
Across the street, the head of our homeowners’ association has decided today of all possible days is the right time to put up Christmas decorations in honor of peace and good cheer and obviously joy. Granted, she normally puts them up too soon. Sometimes motivation spurs us to swift action.
Another neighbor whose “Just Be Kind” sign has been a regular marker on our pandemic walks has their garage door open and “Stand by Me” cranked up to share with anyone in earshot. As the bass line thrums, the sky that we look upon neither crumbles nor falls.
Three kids on bikes search for clues to whoever owns a lost dog they found. A mom and daughter sorting piles of toys outside point them to a pickup truck owner a few doors down. Nearby, intangibly yet felt, the spirit of cooperation smiles.
The lawn that had the largest political sign for the past six months is redecorated with pumpkins and a Colts banner. Old seasons are ushered out; new seasons are embraced. We move forward, not backward.
Each of us celebrates the day in our own way. 2020 has been the worst, but today feels imported from another, better, more humane and loving year.
Fingers crossed. Hopes up. Prayers sent. Christmastime is here.