Dear Editor: Offering of thankfulness on Thanksgiving during a deadly plague. If you are reading this after it is written be thankful for you are among the living. Vaya con Dios.
Winter is a dreadful season stingy with giving sunlight. Our lean dreams chilled in the icy pith from the broken back of summer. Winter is not a quiet month out — of its mouth come the boastful, biting wind, screeching banshee mocking death, a dervish tap dancing on fields of snow covering memory living in a distant spring.
Stronger than the howl of winters past, their prime is the everlasting awakening of thankfulness. Thankfulness is a spirit dwelling in comfort with the sacrament of remembrance. A nation who sets aside a pluralistic holy day is a good country seated at a banquet sharing bread with each other, the staff of life.
I would if I could be there with you say, “man is not a political animal. People are not animals at all; we are companions, social beings who hope heavenly ideals can be brought to earth.
“There is paradise and cornucopia we believe in, but we cannot live the dream if we make war on each other. We cannot pass peace between us if we wage war against ourselves.
“If you must hate some one of us be thankful for your hatred. Bella pax contra.”
War against peace.
Gaudete. Dono panis. Pax sit semper vobis cum.
Give praise. Pass the bread. Peace be with you always.
Patrik Vander Velden
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