The holiest of all holidays are those Kept by ourselves in silence and apart; The secret anniversaries of the heart, When the full river of feeling overflows;— The happy days unclouded to their close; The sudden joys that out of darkness start As flames from ashes; swift desires that dart Like swallows singing down each wind that blows! White as the gleam of a receding sail, White as a cloud that floats and fades in air, White as the whitest lily on a stream, These tender memories are;— a Fairy Tale Of some enchanted land we know not where, But lovely as a landscape in a dream.
Thanksgiving is this week and I hear the hurt in others since it’s not safe to be with there families and loved ones. How many times have we actually dreaded Thanksgiving because we feel that it’s a day we have to be tolerant of our family and friends. The relative that states the wrong comment be it racial, religious, or political. Now it seems like we miss it. Even though family and friends can be sometimes trying, it is time to be in a familiar setting and share a meal together. After this pandemic, lets appreciate those gatherings, no matter how trying we feel they are because when it’s taken away it is highly missed.