Bringing down the House

Mikaela says:
I hate to bring the mood down again, but I feel pressed to introduce what should remain an underscore throughout this joyous holiday season.

I went to my liberal religious service yesterday morning where peace was the theme. Peace and goodwill toward men, right? That's supposed to be the moral of Christmas, even for us left-wing religiosos. Even though, I admit, I am especially emotional this week, I was surprised by my own teariness throughout the service. Every time she mentioned peace -- peace for the embattled Fallujians -- peace for entrenched politicians -- peace for angry Americans -- and reminded us that goodness is here, with us and in us, all the time -- that our sole responsibility is to recognize and appreciate the goodness here, in the people next to us in the long line at the malls, here in this Christmas season even when materialism seems to be the rule of the day -- here in this country where half of us support this President and his war and half of us stew in fury and despair -- I found myself struggling to quiet a rising panic at the vision of all the people in Iraq and elsewhere in the world that are drowning in fear of U.S. attack. Every day. Every day.

All I could pray for was one day of respite from fear of us. One day -- too much to hope for a whole holiday week -- where it would never cross their minds to fear for their lives if they leave their homes to buy food. Just one day where the love of their families and neighbors was more real to them, more present, than their fear and hatred of everything the U.S. has come to mean to the threats and dangers of their everyday lives. One day for the children growing up hungry and scared to be able to laugh as loud as they want and not be ashamed at their joy when so many around them are suffering. Just one day without fear for those we seek to "free" and a whole week of remembering for those of us here that our privilege and our distance and our ability to forget their suffering is bought at a much higer price than our global position and personal credit can sustain.

It wasn't until this morning that I learned 70 people lost their lives yesterday in Iraq. Seventy people. The tears that so embarrassed me at church, tears that seemingly came from nowhere, now seem piteously few and negligently inadequate. I am going to take the time today to write our fair Mr. W. Bush and his Pentagon and ask them for one day of peace. To do whatever we have to do not to shoot anyone or bomb anyone or scare anyone for one full day. It doesn't seem too much to ask. It's probably inhuman of me to ask for so little. May I be forgiven and my intentions understood.