Christmas

     It seems to me that it's more acceptable to be a Christian, a believer in God, a church-goer at this time of year. Most of the time I feel like we are the minority in the world, as I am sure that we are--- church attendance is continually declining. At Christmas time though, it seems like almost everyone can sing about Baby Jesus and the joy of His birth, whether they believe or not. Maybe I am just being cynical and there is a lot more of us out there than I realize. Or perhaps at Christmas, the possibility of faith is closer to us all because the story is one of simple poignancy: a child, a star, a peace that could overcome all of our differences and make us one. Maybe at this time of year some of us yearn to be part of something bigger than ourselves, even if we fail to understand it the rest of the year.
      Is there more giving in December, more hope, more reconciliation? Do folks reach out a little more then, act more charitably, try a little harder to love their neighbour? I think so. It's a shame that we can't be those people every day of the year. But if Christmas, Chanukah, Winter Solstice, December make us love one another a little more, give to each other a bit more, if it makes us look around us and realize how blessed we are, then great. Really truly great.
    I haven't always but I love Christmas now. My favourite Christmas memory is of waking up years ago, to the sound of our two young daughters singing "Go Tell it on the Mountain" from their bunk beds, quite unsolicited, quite unexpectedly, very joyously. And that is why for me Christmas is about children, our children, the children we were, the children in the world who need us, all of us and the child: the child, the star, the peace.
Happy Christmas to you and to yours....

Bravery

     After yet another seizure, this one at school in front of peers, it was decided by the teachers that the class would need to be debriefed. They had been evacuated from the room to give our daughter some privacy while the seizure occurred. This happened right at the end of the last class on Friday afternoon and so over the weekend some students probably wondered about her, what had happened and why.
     Our daughter's first reaction was to not want to be a part of this explanation to the class. She was embarrassed to have had a tonic clonic seizure which lasted seven minutes in front of anybody, much less any of her classmates. At fourteen years old, who can blame her; at fourteen we don't want to be perceived as different, and certainly not this different. We talked about it over the weekend, listened and talked some more. And I think I heard her and I think she heard me because I left it up to her and she chose the harder road.

     On Sunday she indicated that she would be wearing purple to school on Monday; purple for Purple Day, the Epilepsy Awareness and Education Day, which was started by another 14 year old Canadian girl named Cassidy Megan when she was nine years old. And on Monday afternoon our daughter stood up in front of her class with her teacher who explained what had happened. I wasn't there and did not hear what was said but just knowing that makes me incredibly proud of her. It is no easy thing to tell your secret to relative strangers or even to stand there while someone else tells it for you. Her teacher called her a brave young woman. Yes she is.
     We have no idea what will happen in the days to come but know that we will count them. We will count them as the days since her last seizure but we will also count them as the days since she stood up, answered questions and looked her classmates in the eye. We could not be more proud or more grateful to know such an amazing person.