Serving in ordinariness is something most of us do. Often it’s a simple act, opening a door, donating a dented can of Spam to a food drive, even offering a smile and nod to a stranger. It all makes the world go ’round.
I’m haunted by a man who seemingly didn’t own a last name. Or, first. Christmas visits, Hanukkah, too. For some, December is just a cozy time off with football, twinkling lights and sugary treats. My Christmas arrives a few days late. That’s when my daughter’s home over college winter break. The day of? I’m physically alone, but spend it on the phone, long distance, with loved ones. I’m exhausted by day’s end, laughing so much. But, come December? I always think of Red.
I’ve lived in Newhall most my life, back when it was a fly speck on a map. For years, my rural little cowboy valley earned the reputation as being —ahem — “quirky.”…