That candle's lever refused to click into the "off" position. Too cold and tired to fuss with it, I brought it into the house and set it at the center of the breakfast table, where it glowed all night. And then it glowed all day. And then it glowed all week. And then for two weeks.
Music saves us. We whistle in the dark. I love the darkness of a starry night -- but the darkness of the tragedy last December in Newtown, Connecticut is nearly beyond words. Here, however, we can consider the music which followed it.
Time to let go because if I don't I'll lose myself in the process. I'm in danger of forgetting what the holidays and life are all about. What matters is doing the best we can to practice true loving kindness, a genuine desire to act in pursuit of the others' happiness.
This shocking event has captured the attention of most of the world, and there is some small solace in knowing that millions of hearts are sharing in concern and compassion for the victims and their families.
Reporters are taught to break the story and get the interview that will captivate an audience. However, there are exceptions where there is something more important than ratings and more important than making a good story.
I'm tired of hearing the line, "Guns don't kill people, people do." Sure there is some one pulling the trigger -- but accessibility to guns escalates this to another level. It creates chaos and a culture that we don't need.
How do you celebrate the holidays in the wake of a national tragedy? How do you find life in the midst of carnage too horrible to imagine? Here's what you need to know, from the perspective of a parent who has lost their child from a catastrophic act of violence.